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THE BOYS' LIFE OF 
LAFAYETTE 




MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE 
From an engraving by Jones 



I The Boys' Life of | 

I LAFAYETTE I 

^ ^ by * 

^ Helen Nicolay # 

^ Illustrated ^ 

^ rs — > ^ 

* / |-n^ * 

9I? Harper y Brothers Publishers 9^ 

^ New York and London <#■ 



^c 



V 



The Boys' Life of Lafayette 



Copyright 1920, by Harper & Brothers 

Printed in the United States of America 

Published September, 1920 



SEP 27 1920 
©CI.A597541 



CONTENTS 

CHAP. PA^^ 

Preface ix 

I. ^ Warriors and Wild Beasts i 

II. Educating a Marquis 9 

III. A New King 19 

IV. An Unruly Courtier 29 

V. Leading a Double Life 39 

VI. A Sea-turn 48 

VII. An American Pilgrimage 57 

VIII. An Astonishing Reception 64 

IX. Proving Himself a Soldier 72 

X. Letters 81 

XI. A Fool's Errand 91 

XII. Farce and Treachery 104 

XIII. A Liaison Officer 113 

XIV. Near-mutiny and Near-imprisonment .... 122 

XV. Help — and Disappointment 129 

XVI. Black Treachery 139 

XVII. Preparing for tee Last Act 149 

XVIII. YoRKTOWN 158 

XIX. "The Wine of Honor" 168 

XX. The Passing of Old France 180 

XXL The Tricolor 191 

XXII. The Sans-culottes 200 

XXIII. Popularity and Prison 208 

XXIV. South Carolina to the Rescue! 221 

XXV. Volunteers in Misfortune 235 



CONTENTS 

CHAP. PAGE 

XXVI. Exiles . 246 

XXVII. A Grateful Republic 258 

IXXVIII. Leave-takings 269 

XXIX. President— OR King-maker 276 

XXX. Seventy-six Years Young . 289 

Index 301 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

MAQUIS DE LAFAYETTE ■ . . . Frontispiece 

THE MANOR-HOUSE OF CHAVANIAC Facing p. 6 

FRANKLIN AT THE FRENCH COURT ** 42 

WASHINGTON AND THE COMMITTEE ^ CONGRESS AT 

VALLEY FORGE " 94 

VALLEY FORGE — WASHINGTON AND LAFAYETTE ... " 94 

THE BATTLE OF MONMOUTH . " 1 10 

THE BASTILLE '* I94 

SIEGE OF THE BASTILLE .--..... " I94 

MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE " 262 

MADAME DE LAFAYETTE ** 262 

MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE AND LOUIS PHILIPPE ... " 286 



PREFACE 

This is no work of fiction. It is sober history; 
yet if the bare facts it tells were set forth without 
the connecting links, its preface might be made to 
look like the plot of a dime novel. 

It is the story of a poor boy who inherited great 
wealth; who ran away from home to fight for liberty 
and glory; who became a major-general before he 
was twenty years old; who knew every nook and 
corner of the palace at Versailles, yet was the blood- 
brother of American Indians; who tried vainly to 
save the lives of his king and queen; who was in 
favor of lav/, yet remained a rebel to the end of his 
days; who suffered an unjust imprisonment which 
has well been called **a night five years long"; who 
was twice practically Dictator of France; and who, 
in his old age, was called upon to make a great 
decision. 

But it is no work of fiction. It is only the biog- 
raphy of a French gentleman named Lafayette. 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF 
LAFAYETTE 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF 
LAFAYETTE 



WARRIORS AND WILD BEASTS 

**'T*HE Lafayettes die young, but die fighting," 
A was a saying in that part of France where they 
had been people of consequence for seven hundred 
years before the most famous of them came into the 
world. The family name was Motier, but, after the 
custom of the time, they were better known by the 
name of their estate, La Fayette, in Auvergne, a 
region which had been called the French Siberia. 
Although situated in central southern France, fully 
three hundred and fifty miles from Paris, it is a 
high wind-swept country of plains and cone-shaped 
hills, among whose rugged summits storms break 
to send destruction rushing down into the valleys. 
Unexpected, fertile, sheltered spots are to be found 
among these same hills, but on the whole it is not 
a gentle nor a smiling land. 

The history of France during the Middle Ages 
bears not a little resemblance to this region of 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Auvergne, so full of sharp contrasts, often of disaster. 
Through all the turbulent centuries the men of the 
house of Lafayette bore their part, fighting gallantly 
for prince and king. Family tradition abounded in 
stories telling how they had taken part in every war 
since old Pons Motier de Lafayette, the Crusader, 
fought at Acre, in Palestine, in 1250. Jean fell at 
Poictiers in 1356. There was a Claude — exception 
to the rule that they died young — ^who took part in 
sixty-five sieges and no end of pitched battles. 
Though most of them fought on land, there was an 
occasional sailor to relieve the monotony; notably 
a vice-admiral of the reign of Francis First, who 
held joint command with Andrea Doria when that 
soldier of fortune went to the relief of Marseilles, 
and who sank or burned four Spanish galleons in 
the naval battle at the mouth of the Var. 

But the Lafayette who occupied most space in 
family tradition and written history was Gilbert, 
who was head of the family about the time Columbus 
discovered America. It was he who took for motto 
upon his coat of arms the words, ' ' Cur nonV * * ' Why 
not?** and by energetic deeds satisfactorily answered 
his own question. * * Seneschal of the Bourbonnaise, ' ' 
**Lieutenant-General,** ** Governor of Dauphigny," 
and *' Marshal of France** were a few of the titles 
and honors he gathered in the course of a long life, 
for he was another exception to the family rule. 
He was eighty-two before he passed away, ready to 
fight to the last. Although it is not true that he 
slew the English Duke of Clarence with his own 
hands at the battle of Bauge^ it is true that he 



WARRIORS AND WILD BEASTS 

fought under the banner of Joan of Arc at Orleans, 
-and that he had many adventures on many fields. 
When there was no foreign enemy to battle against, 
he worked hard to subdue the bandits who infested 
France and made travel on the highroads more ex- 
citing than agreeable to timid souls in the reign of 
Charles VII. 

In time the Motiers de Lafayette divided into two 
branches, the elder keeping the estate and name and 
most of the glory; the younger, known as the Motiers 
of Champetieres, enjoying only local renown. The 
women of the family also made a place for them- 
selves in history. One, who had beauty, had also 
courage and wit to oppose the great Cardinal Riche- 
lieu himself. Another, less known in politics than 
in literature, though she tried her hand at both, 
became famous as a novelist. It was her grand- 
daughter who inherited part of the property at a 
time when there were no more men of the elder 
branch to carry on the name. In order that it might 
not die out, she arranged to have the estates pass 
back to the younger branch, which in time inherited 
the title also. 

The Lafayettes went on fighting and losing their 
lives early in battle. Thus it happened that a baby 
bom to a young widow in the grim old manor-house 
of Chavaniac on the 6th of September, 1757, was 
the last male representative of his race, a marquis 
from the hour of his birth. His father had been 
made Chevalier of the Order of Saint-Louis and 
Colonel of Grenadiers at the early age of twenty- 
two, and fell before he was twenty-five, leading his 

3 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

men in an obscure engagement of the Seven Years' 
War. This was about a month before his son was 
bom. His family believed that the gallant colonel's 
life was sacrificed by the recklessness of his com- 
manding officer. 

According to the old parish register, still preserved, 
''The very high and puissant gentleman, Monsei- 
gneur Marie-Joseph-Paul- Yves-Roch-Gilbert Dumo- 
tier de Lafayette, the lawful son of the very high 
and very puissant Monseigneur Michel-Louis-Chris- 
tophe-Roch-Gilbert Dumotier, Marquis de Lafayette, 
Baron de Wissac, Seigneur de Saint-Romain and 
other places, and of the very high and very puis- 
sant lady, Madame Marie Louise Julie de la 
Riviere, *' was baptized in the little parish church of 
Chavaniac twenty-four hours after his birth. Be- 
sides this terrifying name and the title, all the 
traditions and responsibilities of both branches of 
the family descended upon his infant shoulders. 
Being such a scrap of a baby, however, he was 
mercifully ignorant of responsibilities and ancient 
names. The one given him in baptism was short- 
ened for daily use to Gilbert, the name of the 
old Marshal of France; but a time came when it was 
convenient to have a number, rightfully his, from 
which to choose. For his signature **La Fayette" 
covered the whole ground. 

His only near relatives were his young mother, his 
grandmother (a stately lady of strong character), 
and two aunts, sisters of his dead father, who came 
to live at Chavaniac. It was by this Httle group of 
aristocratic Frenchwomen that the champion of 



WARRIORS AND WILD BEASTS 

liberty was brought up during those early years 
when character is formed. That he did not become 
hopelessly spoiled speaks well for his disposition and 
their self-control. He was not a strong baby, and 
they must have spent many anxious hours bending 
over him as he lay asleep, however much they con- 
cealed their interest at other times for fear of doing 
him moral harm. 

Until he was eleven they all lived together in the 
gloomy old chateau where he was born. This has 
been described as ''great and rather heavy." It 
had been fortified in the fourteenth century. Two 
round towers with steep, pointed roofs flanked it 
on the right and left. Across its front high French 
windows let in light to the upper floors. From them 
there was a far-reaching view over plain and river, 
and steep hills dotted with clumps of trees. But 
loopholes on each side of an inhospitable narrow 
doorway told of a time when its situation had been 
more prized for defense than for mere beauty of 
scenery. It had a dungeon and other grim conven- 
iences of life in the Middle Ages, which must have 
stamped themselves deep on the mind of an im- 
pressionable child. The castles of Wissac and 
Saint-Romain, of which the boy was also lord, could 
be seen higher up among the hills. There were 
glimpses, too, of peasant homes, but these were 
neither neat nor prosperous. Bad laws, and abuse 
of law that had been going on for centuries, had 
brought France to a point where a few people were 
growing inordinately rich at the expense of all the 
rest. The king suffered from this as well as the 

2 S 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

peasants. The country was overrun by an army of 
tax-collectors, one for every one hundred and thirty 
souls in France, each of them bent on giving up 
as little as possible of the money he collected. To 
curry favor with the great nobles, who were more 
powerful than the king himself, their property was 
not taxed so heavily as it should have been, while 
poorer people, especially the peasants, were robbed 
to make up the difference. * ' The people of our coun- 
try live in misery; they have neither furniture nor 
beds ; during part of the year the most of them have 
no nourishment except bread made of oats and bar- 
ley, and even this they must snatch from their own 
mouths and those of their children in order to pay 
the taxes." That was written about this very region 
of Auvergne a few years before Lafayette was born. 
In self-defense the peasants made their homes look 
even more wretched than they really were. On oc- 
casion, when convinced that the stranger knocking 
at their door was no spy, they could bring a wheaten 
loaf and a bottle of wine from their secret store and 
do the honors most hospitably. 

The La Fayettes were not rich, though they were 
the great people of their neighborhood. Only one 
Frenchman in a hundred belonged to the nobility, 
but that one received more consideration than all 
the other ninety-nine combined. When the boy 
marquis rode out with his mother, or that stately 
lady his grandmother, the peasants in the little vil- 
lage which had grown up around the walls of Cha- 
vaniac, clinging to it for protection, bowed down as 
though the child were a sovereign. Some of them 

6 



H 

a 
w 

^" 2 

o O 

o w 

^ W 

2- <^ 




WARRIORS AND WILD BEASTS 

knelt in the dust as the coach passed by. Truly it 
was strange soil for the growth of democratic ideas. 
It was well for the boy's soul that in spite of lands 
and honor the household was of necessity a frugal 
one. The wide acres were unproductive. Men who 
had fought so often and so well for their princes 
had found little leisure to gather wealth for their 
children. Besides, it was thought out of the ques- 
tion for a nobleman to engage in gainful pursuits. 
The wealth such men enjoyed came through favor 
at court; and in this household of women there 
was no longer any one able to render the kind of 
service likely to be noticed and rewarded by a 
king. 

So the lad grew from babyhood in an atmosphere 
of much ceremony and very little luxury. On the 
whole, his was a happy childhood, though by no 
means gay. He loved the women who cherished 
him so devotedly. In his Memoirs, written late in 
life, he calls them ''tender and venerated relatives.'* 
They looked forward to the day when in his turn 
he should become a soldier, dreading it, as women 
will, but accepting it, as such women do, in the 
spirit of noblesse oblige, believing it the one pos- 
sible calling for a young man of his station. To 
prepare him for it he was trained in manly exer- 
cises, by means of which he outgrew the delicacy 
of his earliest years and became tall and strong for 
his age. He was trained also in horsemanship, to 
which he took kindly, for he loved all spirited ani- 
mals. In books, to which he did not object, though 
he was never wholly a scholar, he followed such 

7 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

studies as could be taught him by the kindly Abb6 
Fey on, his tutor. 

On his rides, when he met the ragged, threadbare 
people who Hved among the hills, they saluted him 
and looked upon him almost with a sense of owner- 
ship. Was he not one of their Lafayettes who had 
been fighting and dying gallantly for hundreds of 
years? As for him, his friendly, boyish eyes looked 
a little deeper through their rags into their sterling 
peasant hearts than either he or they realized. In 
the old manor-house his day-dreams were all of 
*' riding over the world in search of reputation," 
he tells us; a reputation to be won by doing gallant 
deeds. *'You ask me," we read in his Memoirs, **at 
what time I felt the earliest longings for glory and 
liberty. I cannot recall anything earlier than my 
enthusiasm for tales of heroism. At the age of 
eight my heart beat fast at thought of a hyena 
which had done some damage and made even more 
noise in the neighborhood. The hope of meeting 
that beast animated all my excursions." Had the 
encounter taken place, it might have been thrilling 
in the extreme. It might even have deprived his- 
tory of a bright page; for it was nothing less than 
hunger which drove such beasts out of the woods 
in winter to make raids upon lonely farms — even to 
terrify villagers at the very gates of Chavaniac. 



II 

EDUCATING A MARQUIS 

THE first period of Gilbert's life came to an end 
when he was eleven years old. His mother was 
by no means ignorant of the ways of the world 
and she had powerful relatives at court. She real- 
ized how much they could do to advance her boy's 
career by speaking an occasional word in his behalf; 
and also how much truth there is in the old saying 
**Out of sight, out of mind." They might easily 
forget all about her and her boy if they remained 
hidden in the provinces. So they went up to Paris 
together, and she had herself presented at court 
and took up her residence in the French capital, 
while Gilbert became a student at the College Du 
Plessis, a favorite school for sons of French noble- 
men. His mother's uncle, the Comte de la Riviere, 
entered his name upon the army lists as member of 
a regiment of Black Mousquet aires, to secure him 
the benefit of early promotion. He was enrolled, too, 
among the pages of Marie Leszczynska, the Polish 
wife of King Louis XV, but his duties, as page and 
soldier, were merely nominal. He does not say a 
word about being page in his Memoirs. Of the 

9 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

regiment he merely says that it served to get him 
excused from classes when there was to be a parade. 

He remained three years at Du Plessis. He found 
studying according to rule decidedly irksome, and 
very different from the solitary lessons at Cha- 
vaniac, where the few rules in force had been made 
for his benefit, if not for his convenience. He tells 
us that he was "distracted from study only by the 
desire to study without restraint," and that such 
success as he gained was ** inspired by a desire for 
glory and troubled by the desire for liberty." Some- 
times the latter triumphed. It amused him, when 
he was old, to recall how, being ordered to write an 
essay on ''the perfect steed," he sacrificed a good 
mark and the praise of his teachers to the pleasure 
of describing a spirited horse that threw his rider at 
the very sight of a whip. 

The College Du Plessis must have been almost 
like a monastery. Each boy had a stuffy little cell 
into which he was locked at night. No member of 
a student's family might cross the threshold, and 
the many careful rules for health and diet were 
quite the opposite of those now practised. This 
period of Lafayette's school-days was a time when 
men's ideas on a variety of subjects were undergoing 
vast change. The old notion that learning was 
something to be jealously guarded and made as 
diffictilt and disagreeable as possible died hard. It 
is true that the good Fenelon, who believed in teach- 
ing children to read from books printed in French 
instead of in Latin, and who thought it could do 
them no harm if the books were ''well bound and 

lO 



EDUCATING A MARQUIS 

gilded on the edge," had gone to his reward half a 
century before; but he had been writing about the 
education of girls! When Lafayette was only five 
years old one Jean Jacques Rousseau had published 
a fantastic story called Emile, which was nothing in 
the world but a treatise on education in disguise. 
In this he objected to the doctrine of original sin, 
holding that children were not bom bad; and he 
reasoned that they did not learn better nor more 
quickly for having knowledge beaten into them with 
rods. But this man Rousseau was looked upon as an 
infidel and a dangerous character. Probably at Du 
Plessis the discipline and course of study belonged 
to the old order of things, though there were con- 
cessions in the way of teaching the young gentlemen 
manners and poetry and polite letter- writing, which 
they would need later in their fashionable life at 
court. History as taught them was hopelessly tan- 
gled up in heraldry, being all about the coats of arms 
and the quarrels of nobles in France and neighboring 
countries. When something about justice and lib- 
erty and the rights of the people did creep into the 
history lesson the tall young student from. Auvergne 
fell upon it with avidity. Perhaps it was because of 
such bits scattered through the pages of Roman 
authors that he learned considerable Latin, and 
learned it well enough to remember it forty years 
later, when he found it useful to piece out his ig- 
norance of German in talking with his Austrian 
jailers. 

In spite of queer notions about hygiene, like those 
which bade him shut out fresh air from his room at 

II 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LATAYETTE 

night and avoid the risk of eating fresh fruit, he grew 
in body as well as in mind during the years at 
Du Plessis, and he had almost reached his man's 
height of five feet eleven inches, when one day in 
1770 a messenger came to the college, bringing the 
news that his mother had just died. A very few 
days later her death was followed by that of her 
father, who was wealthy and had made the boy 
his heir. Thus, almost within a week, he found him- 
self infinitely poorer than he had ever been before, 
yet very rich, deprived of those dearest to him and 
in possession of a large fortune. 

People began to take a sudden lively interest in 
him. The son of a young widow studying in the 
College Du Plessis was of consequence only to him- 
self and his mother. But the young Marquis de La- 
fayette, of such old and excellent family, such good 
disposition, such a record in his studies, such a very 
large income — ^above all, a generous young man with 
no near relatives to give meddling advice about how 
he should spend his money, became fair prey for all 
the fortune-hunters prowling aroimd the corrupt 
court of old Louis XV. 

These were many. The king was bored as well 
as old. His days were filled with a succession of 
tiresome ceremonies. A crowd of bowing courtiers 
was admitted to his bedroom before he got up in 
the morning. Crowds attended him at every turn, 
even assisting in his toilet at night. Frederick the 
Great had said, *'If I were king of France, the first 
thing I would do would be to appoint another king 
to hold court in my place"! But indolent old Louis 

12 



EDUCATING A MARQUIS 

had not the energy even to break down customs which 
had come to him from the days of kings long dead. 
**He cared for nothing in this life except to hunt, 
and feared nothing in the life to come except hell." 
When not hunting, his one desire was to be let alone 
to pursue whatever evil fancy entered his brain. 

The people at court had two desires — ^to flatter the 
king and to get money. The first was the surest 
means to the second. Everybody, good and bad, 
seemed in need of money, for the few rich nobles had 
set a style of living which not even the king could 
afford to follow. It was all part of the same tangle, 
the result of accidents and crimes and carelessness 
extending through many reigns, which had brought 
about ever-increasing visits of the tax-collectors and 
reduced the peasants to starvation. One after an- 
other important concessions had been given away 
as a mark of royal favor, or else had been sold 
outright. A clever man in the reign of Louis XIV 
had remarked that whenever his Majesty created an 
office the Lord supplied a fool to buy it. In the 
reign of his grandson, Louis XV, things were even 
worse. A high-sounding official title, carrying with 
it a merely nominal duty and some privilege that 
might be tinned into coin, was the elegant way of 
overcoming financial difficulty. Even the wax can- 
dles burned in the sconces at Versailles were sold for 
the benefit of the official who had charge of their 
lighting. He saw to it that plenty of candles were 
lighted, and that none of them burned too long before 
going to swell his income. What the great nobles did 
lesser ones imitated; and so on, down a long line. 

13 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

No wonder that young Lafayette, having inherited 
his fortune, became suddenly interesting. 

Of course, not everybody was corrupt, even at 
court. There were people who could not possibly be 
classed as fortune-hunters. Even to these the fact 
that the young heir was tall and silent and awk- 
ward, not especially popular at school, and not likely 
to shine in a society whose standards were those 
of dancing-school manners and lively wit, did not 
weigh for a moment against the solid attraction of his 
wealth. To fathers and mothers of marriageable 
daughters both his moral and material qualifications 
appealed. He was barely fourteen years old when 
proposals of marriage began to be made in the careful 
French way, which assumes that matrimony is an 
affair to be arranged between guardians, instead of 
being left to the haphazard whim of young people. 
An early letter of Lafayette's written about this 
time was partly upon this subject. It might have 
been penned by a world-wise man of thirty. The 
Comte de la Riviere appears to have been the per- 
son to whom these proposals were first addressed. 
He, and possibly the Abbe Feyon, discussed them 
with Lafayette in a business-like way ; and the young 
man, not being in love, either with a maid or with 
the idea of matrimony, listened without enthusiasm, 
suggesting that better matches might be found among 
the beauties of Auvergne. New duties and surround- 
ings engrossed him. He had left Du Plessis for the 
Military Academy at Versailles, where there was 
more army and less cloister in his training ; where he 
spent part of his money upon fine horses and lent 

14 



EDUCATING A MARQUIS 

them generously to friends; and where, for amuse- 
ment in his hours of leisure, he could watch the 
pageant of court life unrolling at the very gates of 
the academy. Matrimony could wait. 

Among those more interested in providing a wife 
for him than he was in finding one for himself was 
the lively Due d'Ayen, a rich and important noble- 
man, the father of five daughters. The eldest of these 
was fully a year younger than Lafayette, while the 
others descended toward babyhood Hke a flight of 
steps. Even in that day of youthful marriages it 
seemed early to begin picking out husbands for them. 
But there were five, and the duke felt he could not 
begin better than by securing this long-limbed boy 
for a son-in-law. He suggested either his eldest 
daughter, Louise, or the second child, Adrienne, then 
barely twelve, as a future Marquise de Lafayette. 
He did not care which was chosen, but of course it 
must be one of the older girls, since the bridegroom 
would have to wait too long for the others to grow 
up. The match was entirely suitable, and was taken 
imder favorable consideration by the bridegroom's 
family; but when it occurred to the duke to mention 
the matter to his wife, he found opposition where it 
was least expected. Madame d'Ayen absolutely re- 
fused her consent. These two were quite apt to hold 
different views. The husband liked the Itixury of 
the court and chuckled over its shams. His wife, 
on the contrary, was of a most serious turn of mind 
and had very little sense of humor. The frivolities 
of court life really shocked her. She looked upon 
riches as a burden, and fulfilled the social duties of 

IS 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

her position only under protest as part of that burden. 
The one real joy of her life lay in educating her daugh- 
ters. She studied the needs of their differing natures. 
She talked with them much more freely than was 
then the custom, and did all in her power to make 
of them women who could live nobly at court and 
die bravely when and wherever their time came. 

She had no fault to find with young Lafayette. 
Her opposition was a matter of theory and just a 
little selfish, for her married life had not been happy 
enough to make her anxious to see her girls become 
wives of even the best young men. As for this 
Motier lad, she thought him particularly open to 
temptation because of his youth and loneliness and 
great wealth. He had lacked the benefit of a father's 
training. So, for that matter, had her own children. 
Their father was almost always away from home. 

The duke's airy manner hid a persistent spirit, 
and, in spite of his worldliness, he esteemed the good 
character of the boy. The discussion lasted almost 
a year and developed into the most serious quarrel 
of their married life. No wonder, under the cir- 
cumstances, that the duke did not, as his daughter 
expressed it, ''like his home." The little girls 
knew something was wrong, and shared their 
mother's unhappiness without guessing the cause. 
The duke's acquaintances, on the other, hand, to 
whom the cause was no secret, looked upon the con- 
test of wills as a comedy staged for their benefit. 
One of them said in his hearing that no woman of 
Madame d'Ayen's strength of character, who had 
gone so far in refusal, would ever consent to the mar- 

i6 



EDUCATING A MARQUIS 

riage. At this the duke warmly rushed to the de- 
fense of his wife and answered that a woman of her 
character, once convinced that she was wrong, would 
give in completely and utterly. 

That was exactly what happened. After months 
of critical observation she found herself liking 
Lafayette better and better. The duke assured her 
that the marriage need not take place for two 
years, and that meantime the young man should 
continue his studies. She gave her consent and 
took the motherless boy from that moment into her 
heart; while the little girls, sensitive to the home 
atmosphere, felt the joy of reconciliation without 
even yet knowing how nearly it concerned them. 

It was decided among the elders that Adrienne, 
the second daughter, was to become Madame 
Lafayette, because the young Vicomte de Noailles, 
a cousin to whom Louise had been partial from 
babyhood, had made formal proposals for her hand. 
This cousin was a friend and schoolfellow of Lafay- 
ette's, and during the next few months the youths 
were given the opportunity of meeting their future 
wives apparently by chance while out walking, and 
even under the roof of the duke; but for a year 
nothing was said to the girls about marriage. Their 
mother did not wish to have their minds distracted 
from their lessons or from that important event in 
the lives of Catholic maidens, their first commimion. 

Two months before her marriage actually took 
place Louise was told that she was to be the bride 
of Noailles ; and at the time of that wedding Adrienne 
wa« informed of the fate in store for her. She found 

17 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

nothing whatever to question in this. It seemed 
altogether delightful, and far simpler than deciding 
about the state of her own soul. The truth was that 
her heart had already begun to feel that love for 
Gilbert de Motier which was to grow and become 
the controlling factor of her life. Girl-like, her head 
was just a little turned by the momentous news of 
her engagement. Her mother tried to allay her ex- 
citement, but she also took care to let Adrienne 
know how much she liked the young man and to 
repeat to her all the good things she had found out 
about him. And to her joy, Adrienne found that 
Lafayette felt for the elder lady *'that filial affec- 
tion" which also grew as the years went on. 

How he felt about marriage as the day approached 
we do not know; neither do we know the details of 
the wedding which must have been celebrated with 
some splendor on the nth of April, 1774. The 
bride was not yet fifteen, the groom was sixteen. 
He was given leave of absence from his regiment, 
and the newly wedded pair took up their residence 
in the wonderful Paris home of Adrienne' s family, 
the H6tel de Noailles. Although not far from the 
Tuileries, in the very heart of the city, it possessed 
a garden so large that a small hunt could be carried 
on in it, with dogs and all. John Adams is authority 
for this. He visited the Lafayettes there some time 
later, and found it unbelievably vast and splendid. 



Ill 

A NEW KING 

I ESS than a month after their marriage these young 
-^ people were dressed in black, as was all the rest 
of fashionable Paris. The gay spring season had 
been brought to a premature and agitated end by 
the news that the king lay dead of smallpox, the 
loathsome disease he most dreaded. 

Smallpox was distressingly common in those days 
before vaccination had been discovered ; but courage- 
ous people protected themselves against it even then 
by deliberately contracting the disease from a mild 
case and allowing it to run its course under the best 
possible conditions. It was found to be much 
less deadly in this way, though the patients often 
became very ill, and it required real courage to submit 
to it. 

The old king had never been at all brave. He 
feared discomfort in this life almost as much as he 
dreaded hell in the next; so he had fled the disease 
instead of courting it, and in time it came to have 
special terrors for him. He had been riding through 
the April woods with a hunting party and had come 
upon a sad little funeral procession — a very humble 

19 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

one. Always curious, he stopped the bearers and 
asked who they were carrying to the grave. *'A 
young girl, your Majesty." The king's watery old 
eyes gleamed. ' ' Of what did she die ? " * ' Smallpox, 
Sire." In terrified anger the monarch bade them 
begone and bury the corpse deep ; then he dismissed 
the hunt and returned to the palace. Two days 
later he was stricken. The disease ran its course 
with amazing virulence, as though taking revenge 
for his misspent life. Some of the courtiers fled from 
Versailles. Others, to whom the king's displeasure 
seemed a worse menace than smallpox, remained. 
His favorites tried to keep the truth from the public. 
Daily bulletins announced that he was getting better. 
When it was learned that he might die the people 
crowded the church of Ste.-Genevieve, the patron 
saint of Paris, kissing the reliquary and raising sobs 
and prayers for his recovery. When he died, on the 
loth of May, his body was hastily covered with 
quicklime and conveyed, by a little handful of at- 
tendants who remained faithful, to St. -Denis, where 
the kings of France lie buried. It was done without 
ceremony in the dead of night. Forty days later 
his bones were laid in the tomb of his ancestors with 
all possible funeral pomp. There was decorous 
official mourning for the customary length of time; 
but the old king had never been an inspiring figure 
and most of his subjects were secretly glad he was 
out of the way. 

During July and August of that year Lafayette 
was *'in service'* with the Black Mousquet aires. 
In September, when his period of active duty was 

20 



A NEW KING 

over and he could do as he chose, he had himself 
exposed to smallpox, and he and his wife and mother- 
in-law shut themselves up in a house at Chaillon, 
hired for the occasion, where during his illness and 
convalescence Madame d'Ayen devoted herself to 
her new son night and day. 

Even while the rafters of Ste. -Genevieve were 
echoing to sobs and prayers for the old king's 
recovery, people whispered under their breath what 
they really thought of him; and by the time Lafay- 
ette and his wife could take their places in the world 
again Louis XV had been systematically forgotten. 
His grandson, the new king, was a well-meaning 
young man, only three years older than Lafayette. 
One of the king's intimates said that the chief 
trouble with Louis XVI was that he lacked self- 
confidence. Marie Antoinette, his queen, was fond 
of pleasure, and for four long years, ever since their 
marriage, they had been obliged to fill the difficult 
position of heirs apparent, hampered by all the re- 
straints of royalty while enjoying precious few of its 
privileges. Like every one else, they were anxious 
to get the period of mourning well over and to see 
the real beginning of their reign, which promised to 
be long and prosperous. Nobody realized that the 
time had come when the sins and abuses of previous 
reigns must be paid for, and that the country was 
on the verge of one of the greatest revolutions of 
history. 

To outward appearance it was a time of hope. 
Population was increasing rapidly; inventions and 
new discoveries were being made every day. ' ' More 

3 21 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

truths concerning the external world were discovered 
in France during the latter half of the eighteenth 
century than during all preceding periods together," 
says Buckle. Even in the lifetime of the old king 
it had been impossible to stem the tide of progress: 
what more natural than to believe these blessings 
would continue, now that his evil influence was 
removed? 

Not only had discoveries been made; they had 
been brought within the reach of more people than 
ever before. About the time Lafayette was bom the 
first volume of a great book called the Encyclopedia 
had made its appearance in the French language, 
modeled after one already produced in England. 
Priests had denounced it; laws had been made 
ordering severe penalties for its use. But it was too 
valuable to be given up and volume after volimie 
continued to appear. Voltaire wrote an audacious 
imaginary account of the way it was used in the 
palace. The king's favorite did not know how to 
mix her rouge; the king's ministers wanted to learn 
about gunpowder. The forbidden book was sent 
for. A procession of lackeys staggered into the 
room, bending under the weight of twenty huge 
volumes, and everybody found the information 
desired. The bit of audacity hid a great truth. 
The Encyclopedia had brought knowledge to the 
people and all were anxious to profit by it. 

"The people," however, were not considered by 
nobles who lived in palaces. Indeed, they were 
only beginning to consider themselves — ^beginning 
dimly to comprehend that their day was dawning. 

, 22 



A NEW KING 

Two decades would have to pass before they were 
fully awake, but the scene was already being set for 
their great drama. Paris, the largest city in France, 
had increased in size one-third during the past 
twenty-five years. The old theory had been that too 
large a town was a public menace, both to health and 
to government. Nine times already in its history 
the hmits of Paris had been fixed and had been out- 
grown. It now held between seven hundred thou- 
sand and eight hundred thousand souls. When 
viewed from the tower of Notre Dame it spread out 
ten or twelve miles in circumference, round as an 
orange, and cut into two nearly equal parts by the 
river Seine. 

**One is a stranger to one's neighbor in this vast 
place," a man wrote soon after this. "Sometimes 
one learns of his death only by receiving the invita- 
tion to his funeral." *'Two celebrated men may live 
in this city twenty-five years and never meet." 
**So many chimneys send forth warmth and smoke 
that the north wind is tempered in passing over the 
town." Streets were so narrow and houses so high 
that dwellers on the lower floors ''lived in obscurity " ; 
while elsewhere there were palaces like the great 
house belonging to the De Noailles family with its 
garden large enough to stage a small hunt. Such 
gardens were carefully walled away from the public. 
These walled-in gardens and the high, evil-smelling 
houses in which people lived ** three hundred years 
behind the times," crowded together and hungry 
from birth to death, were equally prophetic of the 
awakening to come; for the improvements cele- 

23 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

brated by this writer in describing old Paris were 
either of a kind to let light in upon the people or to 
make conditions more intolerable for them. 

Advertising signs no longer creaked from iron 
gibbets, threatening to tumble and crush the passers- 
by. Spurs as big as cartwheels and the huge gloves 
and giant boots which formerly proclaimed the 
business carried on under them had been banished 
or were now screwed seciirely to the walls, which 
gave the streets a clean-shaven appearance. The 
candle lanterns that used to splutter and drip and 
go out, leaving Paris in darkness, were replaced, on 
nights when the moon was off duty, by lamps 
burning '* tripe-oil" and fitted with reflectors. By 
means of this brilliant improvement fashionable 
quarters were almost safe after nightfall, whereas in 
former years there had been danger of attack and 
robbery, even within pistol-shot of the grand home 
where Lafayette went to live after his marriage. In 
addition to the lights glowing steadily under their 
reflectors — one light to every seventy or one hundred 
inhabitants — there were many professional lantern- 
bearers whose business in life was escorting way- 
farers to and from their homes. Paris after night- 
fall was atwinkle, for "to live by candle-Hght is a 
sign of opulence." 

There was a fire department, newly installed, 
ready to come on call, and, strange to say, **it cost 
absolutely nothing to be rescued." That, however, 
was the only cheap thing in Paris. **The poorer one 
is the more it costs to live ! " was a cry that rose then, 
as now, in all its bitterness. With money anything 

24 



A NEW KING 

could be bought. Voltaire declared that a Roman 
general on the day of his triumph never approached 
the luxury to be foimd here. Wares came to the 
city from the ends of the earth, and Parisians 
invented new wares of their own. Somebody had 
contrived umbrellas like those used in the Orient, 
except that these folded up when not in use. Some- 
body else had invented the business of renting them 
at a charge of two Hards to gallants crossing the 
Pont Neuf who wished to shield their complexions. 
There were little stations at each end of the bridge 
where the money could be paid or the umbrella 
given up. Even seasons of the year set no limit to 
extravagance in Paris. '*A bouquet of violets in 
the dead of winter costs two louis (about nine 
dollars), and some women wear them!" 

Water was deHvered daily to the tall houses, from 
carts, by a force of twenty thousand men, who carried 
it as high as the seventh floor for a trifle more than 
it cost to cross the Pont Neuf under the shade of an 
umbrella. Drivers sent their water-carts skidding 
over the slime, for the narrow, cobble-paved streets 
were black with slippery mud. Coaches and other 
vehicles swung around comers and dashed along at 
incredible speed, while pedestrians fled in every 
direction. There were no sidewalks and no zones of 
safety. The confusion was so great that dignified 
travel by sedan-chair had become well-nigh impos- 
sible. King Louis XV once said, **If I were chief 
of police I would forbid coaches**; but, being only 
King Louis, he had done nothing. Pedestrians were 
often run down; then there would be even greater 

25 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

confusion for a few moments, but only the shortest 
possible halt to traffic. "When on the pavements 
of Paris it is easy to see that the people do not make 
the laws," said one who had suffered. 

These people who suffered in Paris at every turn 
were now beginning to find a cyclopedia of their own 
in another invention of comparatively recent date — 
the cafes, warmed and lighted, where even men who 
had not sous enough to satisfy their hunger might 
cheat their stomachs with a thimbleful of sour wine 
or a morsel of food, and sit for hours listening and 
pondering the talk of others who came and went. 
There was much talk, and in one part of Paris or 
another it touched upon every known subject. 
Each cafe had its specialty; politics in one, philos- 
ophy in another, science in a third. Men of the 
same cast of mind gravitated toward the same spot. 
Cafes had already become schools. Soon they 
were to become political clubs. It was a wonderful 
way to spread new ideas. 

Some of the cafes were very humble, some very 
expensive, but none were strictly fashionable. To 
be seen dining in such a place indicated that a man 
had no invitations to dinner, so the eighteen or 
twenty thousand fops who, curled and perfumed, 
went from house to house cared little for cafes. 
They ate like grasshoppers, through the welcome of 
one host on Monday and another on Tuesday, and 
so down the week, ** knowing neither the price of 
meat nor of bread, and consuming not one-quarter 
of that which was set before them," while thousands 
went hungry — which is the reason that after a time 

26 



A NEW KING 

the men in the cafes rose and took a terrible revenge. 
Paris was by no means all France, but whatever 
Paris did and felt the other towns were doing also; 
and slowly but surely the passions animating them 
would make their way to the loneliest peasant hut 
on the remotest edge of the kingdom. 

Thus, while the nobles in their gardens still 
dreamed pleasantly of the power that was passing 
from them, the people were slowly rousing from 
torpor to resentment. It is well to linger over these 
conditions in order to understand fully all that 
Lafayette's acts meant in the society in which he 
moved. He was not one of the twenty thousand 
fops, but he belonged to the fortunate class to whom 
every door seemed open during the early years of 
the new reign. His military duties were agreeable 
and light, he had plenty of money, a charming wife, 
powerful family connections, and he was admitted 
to the inmost circle at court. If he had longings to 
experiment with the democratic theories set forth 
by radical authors like Rousseau, even that was not 
forbidden him. Their writings had attracted much 
attention and had already brought about increased 
liberaHty of manners. While the court at Ver- 
sailles and the city of Paris were very distinct, Paris 
being only a huge town near at hand, the distance 
between them was but fourteen miles, and it was 
quite possible for young men like Lafayette to go 
visiting, so to speak, in circles not their own. Lafay- 
ette's friend, the Comte de S6giir, has left a picture 
of life as the young men of their circle knew it. 

** Devoting all our time to society, jetes, and pleas- 

27 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

ure, ... we enjoyed at one and the same time all the 
advantages we had inherited from our ancient insti- 
tutions, and all the liberty permitted by new fashions. 
The one ministered to our vanity, the other to our 
love of pleasure. In our castles, among our peas- 
ants, our guards, and our bailiffs, we still exercised 
some vestiges of our ancient feudal power. At 
court and in the city we enjoyed all the distinctions 
of birth. In camp our illustrious names alone were 
enough to raise us to superior command, while at 
the same time we were at perfect liberty to mix 
unhindered and without ostentation with all our 
co-citizens and thus to taste the pleasures of plebeian 
equality. The short years of our springtime of life 
rolled by in a series of illusions — a kind of well- 
being which could have been ours, I think, at no 
other age of the world.'* 



IV 

AN UNRULY COURTIER 

DURING the winter after Adrienne^s marriage the 
Duchesse d'Ayen took her two daughters regu- 
larly to the balls given each week by the queen, and 
after the balls invited the friends of her sons-in-law 
to supper, in a pathetically conscientious effort to 
make the home of the De NoaiUes a more agreeable 
place for the husbands of her children than it had 
been for her own. Adrienne inherited much of her 
mother's seriousness, but she was young enough to 
enjoy dancing, and, feeling that duty as well as in- 
clination smiled upon this life, she was very happy. 
In December of that year her first child was bom, a 
daughter who was named Henriette. 

Lafayette tells us in his Memoirs that he did not 
feel thoroughly at ease in the gay society Marie 
Antoinette drew about her. Nor did the queen 
altogether approve of him, because of his silence and 
an awkwardness which did not measure up to the 
standards of deportment she had set for this circle 
of intimate friends. **I was silent," he says, ''be- 
cause I did not hear an3rthing which seemed worth 
repeating; and I certainly had no thoughts of my 
own worthy of being put into words." Sonle of his 

29 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

friends, who knew him better than the queen, 
realized that there was plenty of fire in him, in spite 
of his cold manner and slow speech. De Segur was 
one of these, for at some period of his youth Lafay- 
ette, smitten with sudden and mistaken jealousy, 
had spent nearly an entire night trying to persuade 
De Segtir to fight a duel with him about a beauty 
for whom De Segur did not care at all. 

Adrienne's family, wishing to do their best by him, 
tried to secure a place for him in the household of 
the prince who afterward became Louis XVIII. 
Lafayette did not want to hurt their feelings ; neither 
did he fancy himself in the r61e they had chosen for 
him, where he believed he would be forced to govern 
his actions by another man*s opinions. He kept his 
own counsel, but, ' *in order to save his independence,'' 
managed to have the prince overhear a remark 
which he made with the deliberate purpose of anger- 
ing him. The office was of course given to some one 
else, and another bit of ill will went to swell the 
breezes blowing over the terraces at Versailles. 

There were bitter court factions. Friends of 
Louis XV had not relished seeing power slip out of 
their hands. The queen was an Austrian who 
never fully understood nor sympathized with the 
French. Neither her critics nor her partizans ever 
allowed themselves to forget her foreign birth. 
King Louis, not having confidence in himself, chose 
for his premier M. de Maiurepas, who was over 
eighty, and should therefore have been a mine of 
wisdom and experience. Unfortunately, he was the 
wrong man; he was not universally respected, and 

30 



AN UNRULY COURTIER 

his white hairs crowned a pate that was not proof 
against the frivoHties of society. The younger men 
were displeased. It was not customary to give 
young men positions of importance, but they were 
sure they could do quite as well as he. They had 
their cafe club also, a place called the Wooden 
Sword, where they discussed the most extravagant 
theories of new philosophy, reviled old customs, 
calling them "Gothic," their favorite term of re- 
proach, and concocted schemes to amuse themselves 
and tease their elders. Having nothing serious to 
occupy them, they turned their attention to setting 
new fashions. A series of pageants and dances 
gave them excellent opportunity. The admiration 
they felt for themselves and one another in the ro- 
mantic dress of the time of Henri IV made them 
resolve to adopt it and force it upon others for daily 
wear. That the capes and plumes and love-knots 
which became their slender figures so well made older 
and stouter men look ridiculous was perhaps part of 
their maHcious intent. 

Age made common cause against them, and the 
youngsters went too far when they held a mock 
session of Parliament, one of those grave assem- 
blages which had taken place in far-off days in 
France, but had been almost forgotten since. There 
was an increasing demand that the custom be re- 
vived, which was not relished by M. de Maurepas 
and his kind. When the old premier learned that a 
prince of the blood had played the role of President 
in this travesty, while Lafayette had been attorney- 
general and other sprigs of high family figured as 

31 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

counsel, barristers, and advocates, it was evident 
that a storm was brewing. De Segur went straight 
to the king and told him the story in a way that 
made him laugh. This saved the participants from 
serious consequences, but it was agreed that such 
trifling must stop; and most of them were packed 
off to join their regiments. 

Lafayette's regiment was stationed at Metz, and 
he took his way there feeling much as he had felt 
when he wrote his school-boy essay on the ** perfect 
steed." It was the most fortunate journey of his 
life, for at the end of it he met his great opportunity. 
The Duke of Gloucester, brother of the King of 
England, was traveling abroad. He came to Metz, 
and the military commander of the place, Comte de 
Broglie, gave a dinner in his honor to which he 
invited the chief officers of the garrison. It was 
not the only time that a dinner played an important 
part in Lafayette's career. Neither Lafayette's age 
nor his military rank quite entitled him to such an in- 
vitation; but the count had a kindly spot in his 
heart for young men. Besides, Adrienne Lafayette 
was a kinswoman of his, and he remembered that 
the father of this tall, silent lad had served under 
him in the Seven Years' War. 

The guest of honor was not the kind of loyal sub- 
ject and brother who could speak no ill of his sov- 
ereign. In fact, he and King George were not on 
good terms. He had his own views about the 
troubles in America, and thought the king quite 
wrong in his attitude toward the Colonists. He had 
lately received letters, and at this dinner discussed 

32 



AN UNRULY COURTIER 

them with the utmost frankness, explaining the point 
of view of the ''insurgents" and expressing his belief 
that they would give England serious trouble. Pos- 
sibly Lafayette had never heard of George Washing- 
ton until that moment. Certainly he had never 
considered the continent of North America except 
as a vague and distant part of the earth's surface 
with which he could have no personal concern. Yet 
twice already the names of his family and of America 
had been linked. The old marshal who took Cur 
nonf for his motto had lived when the voyage of 
Columbus had set the world ringing; and Gilbert 
de Motier, Lafayette's own father, had lost his life 
in the Seven Years' War, by which England won 
from France practically all the land she held in the 
New World. 

Slight and remote as these connections were, who 
can say that they did not unconsciously influence a 
spirit inclined toward Hberty? The conversation of 
the Duke of Gloucester seemed to bring America 
from a great distance to within actual reach of 
Lafayette's hand. He hung upon every word. The 
prince may not have been altogether prudent in his 
remarks. It was an after-dinner conversation and 
in that day the English drank hard. Even so, the 
duke's indiscretions made the talk more interesting 
and, to Lafayette, more convincing. Every word 
spoken strengthened the belief that these American 
Colonists were brave men, well within their rights, 
fighting for a principle which would make the world 
better and happier. He realized with a thrill that 
men three thousand miles away were not content 

33 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

with mere words, but were risking their lives at that 
very moment for the theories which philosophers 
had been preaching for a thousand years; the same 
theories that orators in six hundred Paris cafes had 
lately begun to declaim. 

Afterward he got permission to ask some of the 
questions with which his brain teemed; but long 
before the candles of that feast had burned down in 
their sockets his great resolution was made to **go 
to America and offer his services to a people strug- 
gling to be free." From that time on he could 
think of little else; but, as so often happens with 
quick and generous resolutions, the more he thought 
about it the more difficult it seemed to carry out. 
He had exulted at first that he was his own master 
with a fortune to dispose of as he chose. Then he 
remembered his wife and her family. He knew he 
could count upon her loyalty; but he was equally 
certain that he would meet determined opposition 
from the Due d'Ayen and all his powerful connec- 
tion, who had done their worldly best to make him 
a member of a prince's household. 

And disapproval of *'the family** in France was 
not to be lightly regarded. No serious step could 
be undertaken by young people without their elders 
feeling it their solemn duty to give advice. Very 
likely the king and his ministers would also have 
something to say. ''However,'* he wrote in his 
Memoirs J *'I had confidence in myself, and dared 
adopt as device for my coat of arms the words Cur 
non? that they might serve me on occasion for 
encouragement, or by way of answer.** 

34 



AN UNRULY COURTIER 

He knew almost nothing about America, and, as 
soon as military duties permitted, asked leave to go 
to Paris to make further inquiries, opening his heart 
very frankly to the Comte de Broglie. It happened 
that the count had vivid dreams of his own about 
America — dreams which centered on nothing less 
than the hope that with proper hints and encour- 
agement the rebellious colonies might call him (the 
Comte de Broglie, of wide military experience) to 
take supreme command of their armies and lead 
them to victory, instead of trusting them to the 
doubtful guidance of local talent in the person of this 
obscure Col. George Washington. But De Broglie 
was not minded to confide such things to the red- 
haired stripling who looked at him so pleadingly. He 
conscientiously tried to dissuade him. **My boy," 
he said, ''I saw your uncle die in the Italian wars. 
I witnessed your father's death. ... I will not be 
accessory to the ruin of the only remaining branch 
of your family." But finding arguments made no 
impression, he gave him the coveted permission and 
also an introduction to a middle-aged Bavarian 
officer known as the Baron de Kalb. This man had 
made a voyage to America in the secret employment 
of the French government some years before, and he 
was even now acting as De BrogHe's agent. 

Arrived in Paris, Lafayette found the town full of 
enthusiasm for the insurgents, or the Bostonians, as 
they were called. Already English whist had been 
abandoned for another game of cards known as le 
Boston, and soon the authorities might feel it 
necessary to forbid the wearing of a certain style of 

35 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

head-dress called *^aux insurgents^' and to prohibit 
talk about American rebels in the cafes. Secretly the 
ministers of Louis wished the audacious rebels well, 
being convinced that whatever vexed England served 
to advance the interests of France, but officially 
they were strictly neutral. When Lord Stormont, 
the British ambassador, complained that agents of 
the American government were shipping supplies 
from French ports, they made a great show of activity, 
asked American vessels to leave, and forbade trade 
in contraband articles; but they obligingly shut 
their eyes to the presence of Silas Deane, the Ameri- 
can envoy, in Paris. Diplomatically speaking, he 
did not exist, since Louis had not yet received him; 
but everybody knew that people of distinction in all 
walks of life went secretly to his lodgings. 

Lafayette knew not one word of English. Silas 
Deane knew little, if any, French, and it was De 
Kalb who acted as interpreter when the young 
nobleman went to call upon him. Liberty, Hke 
misery, brings about strange companionships. Three 
men more unlike could scarcely have been found. 
Although known as ** Baron," Johann Kalb was a 
man of mystery who had in truth begun life as a 
butler and had won his place in the army through 
sheer merit. He was middle-aged, handsome, and 
grave. Silas Deane, the lawyer-merchant from Con- 
necticut, was not only imperfectly equipped with 
French, his manners were so unpolished as to appear 
little short of repulsive. Lafayette's usual quiet 
was shaken by his new enthusiasm. His bearing, 
which seemed awkward at Versailles, was more 

36 



AN UNRULY COURTIER 

graceful than the Yankee envoy thought quite 
moral, or than the grave soldier of fortune had been 
able to achieve. And he was ridiculously young. 
Even he reahzed that. ' ' In presenting my nineteen- 
year-old face to Mr. Deane," says the Memoirs, *'I 
dwelt more on my zeal than on my experience; but 
I did make him comprehend that my departure 
would cause some little excitement and might influ- 
ence others to take a similar step." He could 
make the family opposition count for something on 
his side! 

Whatever Silas Deane may have lacked in manner, 
his wits were not slow. He instantly saw the ad- 
vantage of gaining such a convert to his cause. The 
two signed an agreement which was a rather remark- 
able document. On his part Silas Deane promised 
Lafayette the rank of major-general in the Con- 
tinental Army. But hardened as Deane was to 
making lavish promises in the name of the Con- 
tinental Congress, he knew that a major-general 
only nineteen years of age, who had never heard the 
sound of a hostile gun, would be received with 
question rather than with joy in America, so he 
added a few words explaining that Lafayette's 
"high birth, his connections, the great dignities held 
by his family at the court, his disinterestedness, and, 
above all, his zeal for the freedom of our Colonies 
have alone been able to induce me to make this 
promise." One would think Lafayette had been 
haggling, whereas quite the reverse appears to have 
been the truth. 

Lafayette wrote: ''To the above conditions I 
4 37 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

agree; and promise to start when and how Mr. Deane 
shall judge it proper, to serve the said states with all 
possible zeal, with no allowance for private salary, 
reserving to myself only the right to retirrn to France 
whenever my family or the king shall recall me," 
and signed his name. After which he left the house 
of the American commissioner feeling that nothing 
short of all the king's horses and all the king's men 
could turn him from his purpose. ; 



LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE 

LAFAYETTE found his brother-in-law De Noailles 
' and De Segur in Paris, and, certain of being 
thoroughly understood by these two friends, con- 
fided his plan to them. As he expected, both 
expressed a wish to accompany him. The wish 
may not have been entirely unselfish. Many young 
officers in the French army were chafing at the inac- 
tion which ten years of peace had forced upon them, 
and this chance to distinguish themselves in war 
may have appealed to them at first even more 
strongly than the justice of the American cause. It 
certainly added to the appeal of justice in Lafay- 
ette's own case; but meetings with Silas Deane and 
his associates, Arthur Lee and Mr. Carmichael, 
above all, with Benjamin Franklin, who came to 
Paris about this time, soon altered interest to a 
warmer and less selfish feeling. 

These Americans, with their unfashionable clothes, 
their straightforward speech, and their simple bear- 
ing, with plenty of pride in it, presented the greatest 
possible contrast to the ciurled and powdered flat- 
terers surrounding Louis XVI. To meet them was 
like being met by a breath of fresh, wholesome air. 
The young men who came under their influence 

39 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

fancied that Franklin might almost be a friend of 
Plato himself. *'What added to our esteem, our 
confidence, and our admiration," wrote De Segur, 
"were the good faith and simplicity with which the 
envoys, disdaining all diplomacy, told us of the fre- 
quent and oft -repeated reverses sustained by their 
militia, inexperienced as yet in the art of war." 
Merely as a sporting proposition it was a fine thing 
that they and their army were doing. 

De Segur and De Noailles quietly entered into an 
agreement with the Americans, as Lafayette had 
done. So did others; and it became impossible to 
keep their plans secret. When the families of our 
three friends learned of their quixotic plan it was 
clear they would never consent. De Noailles played 
a bold card by applying directly to the War Office 
for permission to serve as a French officer in the 
American army, hoping in this way to match family 
opposition with official sanction, but the War Office 
refused. After that there was nothing to do but to 
submit, since they were not men of independent 
means like Lafayette, though both were older than 
he and held higher military rank. They were de- 
pendent upon allowances made them by their 
respective families, who thus had a very effective 
way of expressing disapproval. All they could do 
was to assure Lafayette of their sympathy and keep 
his secret, for they knew that the opposition which 
blocked them would only make him the more deter- 
mined. The better to carry out his plan, however, 
he also pretended to listen to reason and to give up 
all thoughts of crossing the Atlantic. 

40 



LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE 

De Kalb, meanwhile, almost succeeded in leaving 
France. But the French government decided that 
it would be a breach of neutrality to allow its officers 
to fight against England, and he was obliged to turn 
back. Knowing more about the secret hopes and 
plans of the Comte de Broglie than Lafayette knew, 
he proposed that they go together to consult hixn, 
and they spent several days at the count's coun- 
try home. How much Lafayette learned about his 
host's American dreams is uncertain, nor does it 
make much difference in Lafayette's own story. 
The two elder men were quite willing to use his en- 
thusiasm to further their own ends; but he had great 
need of their help. It was agreed that the voyage 
to America must on no account be given up, and 
that the best way would be for Lafayette to purchase 
and fit out a ship. This, however, was easier said 
than done. One cannot buy a ship as casually as a 
new pair of gloves. 

Not only was his family genuinely opposed and 
his government officially opposed to his going; 
England had spies in Paris. It was jestingly said 
that all the world passed at least once a day over the 
Pont Neuf, and men were supposed to be on watch 
there, to ascertain who had and who had not left 
the city. England, moreover, had agents at every 
seaport in northern France. But Bordeaux in the 
south seemed very far away in days of stage-coach 
travel, and consequently was not so well guarded. 
As luck would have it, the Comte de BrogHe's sec- 
retary had a brother who knew all about ships and 
merchants in Bordeaux, He found a vessel which 

41 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

would do, though she was not very good. Her name 
could not be improved upon, for she was called La 
Victoire. Perhaps, like her new owner, she was able 
to choose one to fit the occasion. She was to cost 
112,000 francs, one-quarter down, and the rest 
within fifteen months of the date of delivery, which 
was fixed for the middle of March, 1777. 

Weeks before this time arrived very bad news had 
come from America. The report ran that Washing- 
ton had lost practically everything. He had been 
defeated in the battles of Long Island and White 
Plains; New York was biimed, and he and his troops, 
reduced now to a ragged mob of two or, at most, 
three thousand men, were in full retreat across New 
Jersey, pursued by thirty thousand British. It was 
well known that England was the most powerful 
military nation of Europe and that, not content with 
her own forces, she was hiring regiments of Hessians 
to send overseas. Clearly the triumph of such num- 
bers must come speedily. All society, from Marie 
Antoinette down, admired the sturdy, independent 
Franklin, with his baggy coat and his homely wit. 
Portraits of him in his coonskin cap were to be seen 
in every home. He was a wizard who had done 
things with lightning no other mortal had done 
before, but even he could not bring success to a 
hopeless cause. 

The prospect must have appeared black indeed to 
the envoys themselves. ^ Honorable men that they 
were, they felt in duty bound to explain the changed 
conditions to Lafayette, and not to allow him to 
ruin his whole future because of a promise enthu- 

42 



LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE 

siastically given. They sent him a message asking 
him to come and see them. He knew he was watched 
and dared not meet Franklin openly, but he went at 
once to Silas Deane and listened to all he had to tell 
him. When he finished the young Frenchman 
thanked him for his very frank statement of a bad 
situation and then made a very frank statement in 
return. ''Heretofore," he said, "I have been able 
to show you only my willingness to aid you in your 
struggle. The time has now come when that willing- 
ness can be put to effective use, for I am going to 
buy a ship and take your officers out in it. Let us 
not give up our hope yet; it is precisely in the time 
of danger that I wish to share whatever fortune 
may have in store for you." After that it would 
have required superhuman unselfishness on the part 
of the Americans to dissuade him. 

How transactions which covered three months of 
time, two-thirds of the length of France, and in- 
volved so many individuals remained undiscovered 
is a mystery unless we assume that the opposition 
of the government was more feigned than real. 
Officials appear to have closed their eyes most 
obligingly whenever possible. 

To divert suspicion from himself, Lafayette occu- 
pied several weeks in a visit to England which had 
been arranged long before. Franklin and Deane 
were most anxious to have him carry out this plan 
to visit the French ambassador in London. So 
Lafayette crossed the Channel and spent three weeks 
in the smoky city, where he received many social 
courtesies. He appears to have enjoyed this season 

43 



THE BOYS',. LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

of gaiety much better than similar occasions at home. 
The necessity for hiding his plans gave zest to 
meetings and conversations that would otherwise 
have been commonplace enough, while the necessity 
for remaining true to his ideals of conduct — ^of con- 
tinuing to be a guest and not a spy in an enemy 
country — ^exercised his conscience as well as his wit. 
It became a humorous adventure to dance at Lord 
Germain's in the same set with Lord Rawdon, just 
back from New York, and to encounter between 
acts at the opera General Clinton, against whom he 
was soon to fight at Monmouth. When presented 
to his Majesty George III he replied to that mon- 
arch's gracious hope that he intended to make a 
long stay in London, with an answer at once guarded 
and misleading. The king inquired what errand 
called him away, and Lafayette answered, with an 
inward chuckle, that if his Majesty knew he would 
not wish him to remain! Although taking good 
care not to betray his plans, he made no secret of 
his interest in the Colonists or his belief in the justice 
of their cause; and he avoided visiting seaport 
towns where expeditions were being fitted out 
against them, and declined all invitations likely to 
put him in a position to obtain information to 
which, under the circumstances, he felt he had no 
right. 

Before leaving London he wrote a long letter to 
his father-in-law, to be delivered only when he was 
safely on his way to Bordeaux. Then he crossed to 
France, but instead of going to his own home took 
refuge with De Kalb at Chaillot, a subtirb of Paris. 

44 



LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE 

Here he remained three days, making final prepara- 
tions. On one of these days he appeared very early 
before the sleepy, astonished eyes of his friend De 
Segur, sent away the servant, closed the door of the 
bedroom with great care, and hurled the bombshell 
of his news: '*I am going to America. Nobody 
knows it, but I am too fond of you to leave without 
telHng you my secret." Then he gave him the out- 
line of his plan, including the port from which he 
was to sail and the names of the dozen French 
officers who were to accompany him. ''Lucky dog! 
I wish I were going with you!" was the substance of 
De Segur's answer, but it had not the usual ring of 
sincerity. De Segur was about to marry a young 
aimt of Adrienne Lafayette's and his wedding-day 
was drawing very near. 

Lafayette managed to impart his secret to De 
Noailles also, but he left Paris without a farewell to 
Adrienne. The one hard thing in this hurried de- 
parture was that he did not dare to see or even to 
write directly to her. She was not well; and, 
besides the risk of arrest involved in visiting her, the 
interview could only be unnerving and distressing 
on both sides. The letter he wrote from London to 
her father appears to have been the nearest to a 
direct message, and that, it must be confessed, con- 
tained no mention of her name and no word exclu- 
sively for her. It was her mother, the upright 
Madame d'Ayen, who broke the news of his de- 
parture, tempering the seeming cruelty of his 
conduct with words of praise for his pluck and for 
the motive which prompted him to act as he did. 

45 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Madame d'Ayen was the only one of the immediate 
family who had a good word for the runaway. The 
young wife clung to her, appalled at the anger of 
her father. The duke was furious, and once more 
the worthy pair came to the verge of quarrel over 
this well-meaning young man. The count could 
see only madcap folly in exchanging an assured 
position at the French court for the doubtful honor 
of helping a lot of English farmers rebel against their 
king. For a few days the town buzzed with excite- 
ment . Lafayette's acquaintances were frankly aston- 
ished that the cold and indifferent young marquis 
had roused himself to such action, and thought it 
exceedingly "chic'* that he should **go over to be 
hanged with the poor rebels." They were indignant 
at the bitterness of the duke's denunciation. One 
lady with a sharp tongue said that if he treated 
Lafayette so, he did not deserve to find husbands for 
the rest of his daughters. 

The runaway was safely out of Paris, but by no 
means out of danger. The Due d'Ayen, who 
honestly felt that he was bringing disgrace upon the 
family, bestirred himself to prevent his saiHng, and 
had a lettre de cachet sent after him. A lettre de 
cachet was an official document whose use and 
abuse during the last hundred years had done much 
to bring France to its present state of suppressed 
political excitement. It was an order for arrest — 
a perfectly suitable and necessary document when 
properly used. But men who had power, and also 
had private ends to gain, had been able to secure 
such papers by the hundreds with spaces left blank 

46 



LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE 

wherein they could write whatever names they 
chose. It was a safe and deadly and underhand 
way of satisfying grudges. In Lafayette's case its 
use was quite lawful, because he was captain in a 
French regiment, leaving the country in disobedi- 
ence to the wish of his sovereign, to fight against a 
nation with whom France was on friendly terms. 
Technically he was little better than a deserter. 
When such conduct was brought to official notice, 
only one course was possible. The lettre de cachet 
was sent, a general order was issued forbidding 
French officers to take service in the American col- 
onies, and directing that if any of them, ''especially 
the Marquis de Lafayette," reached the French 
West Indies on such an errand he should forthwith 
return to France. Word was also sent to French 
seaports to keep a close watch upon vessels and to 
prevent the shipment of war materials to North 
America. Lafayette's friends became alarmed at all 
this activity and feared that it might have serious 
consequences not only for him, but for themselves. 
Officials began to receive letters from them calcu- 
lated to shift the blame from their own shoulders, as 
well as to shield the young man. The French am- 
bassador to England, whose guest he had been in 
London, was particularly disturbed, but felt some- 
what comforted when he learned that a high official 
in the French army had asked King George for per- 
mission to fight as a volunteer under General Howe. 
This in a manner offset Lafayette's act, and England 
could not accuse France of partiality if her officers 
were to be found engaged on both sides. 

47 



VI 

A SEA-TURN 

LAFAYETTE, meanwhile, was traveling southward 
^ with De Kalb. The government does not ap- 
pear to have interested itself in De Kalb, who had 
a two years' furlough, obtained probably through 
the influence of the Comte de BrogHe. At the end 
of three days they reached Bordeaux. Here they 
learned about the commotion Lafayette's departure 
had caused and that the king's order for his arrest 
was on the way. That it did not travel as speedily 
as the rumor seems to prove that Lafayette's friends 
were using all possible official delay to give him 
ample warning. He made good use of the time and 
succeeded in getting La Victoire out of Bordeaux 
to the Spanish harbor of Los Pasajes in the Bay of 
Biscay, just across the French frontier. 

It was in leaving Bordeaux that Lafayette found a 
use for his many names. Each passenger leaving a 
French port was required to carry with him a paper 
stating his name, the place of his birth, his age, and 
general appearance. The one made out by a port 
official not over-particular in spelling described him 
as **Sr. Gilbert du Mottie, Chevalier de Chaviallao — 
age twenty years, tall, and blond." This was all 

48 



A SEA-TURN 

true except that his age was made a little stronger 
and the color of his hair a little weaker than facts 
warranted. His age was nineteen years and six 
months and his hair was almost red. He was the 
Chevalier de Chavaniac, though it is doubtful if one 
acquaintance in a hundred had ever heard the title. 

When he stepped ashore at Los Pasajes he was 
confronted by two officers who had followed from 
Bordeaux by land with the lettre de cachet. Letters 
from his family and from government officials also 
awaited him: '* terrible letters," he called them. 
Those from his family upbraided him bitterly; the 
Ministr}?- accused him of being false to his oath of 
allegiance. The lettre de cachet peremptorily ordered 
him to Marseilles to await further instructions. He 
knew that this meant to await the arrival of his 
father-in-law, who was about to make a long journey 
into Italy and would insist upon Lafayette accom- 
panying him, that he might keep an eye upon his 
movements. 

He was now in Spain, quite beyond the reach of 
French law, but he could not bring himself to actual 
disobedience while there was the remotest chance of 
having these commands modified; so he went back 
with the messengers to Bordeaux, and from there 
sent letters by courier to Paris, asking permission 
to return and present his case in person. De Kalb 
remained with the ship at Los Pasajes, impatient 
and not a little vexed. He foresaw a long delay, if 
indeed the expedition ever started. La Victoire 
could not sail without its owner, or at least without 
the owner's consent. De Kalb thought Lafayette 

49 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

had acted very foolishly; he should either have given 
up entirely or gone ahead regardless of the summons. 
Also he felt that the young man had not been quite 
frank; that in talking with him he had underesti- 
mated the family opposition. *'Had he told me in 
Paris all that he has admitted since," De Kalb wrote 
to his wife, *'I would have remonstrated most 
earnestly against the whole scheme. As it is, the 
affair will cost him some money." Then, having 
freed his mind of his accumulated impatience, he 
added, "But if it be said that he has done a foolish 
thing, it may be answered that he acted from the 
most honorable motives and that he can hold up 
his head before all high-minded men." 

In Bordeaux Lafayette had presented himself 
before the commandant and made declaration that 
he alone would be answerable for the consequences 
of his acts; then he had set himself, with all 
the patience he could muster, to wait the re- 
turn of his messenger. To his formal request he 
received no reply. From private letters he learned 
that he had only the Due d'Ayen to thank for 
the lettre de cachet. Officials had been heard to 
say that they would have taken no notice of his 
departure had it not been for the duke's complaint. 
This convinced him that there was nothing to be 
gained by waiting; so he wrote to M. de Maurepas 
that he interpreted his silence to be consent, ''and 
with this pleasantry," as he says in the Memoirs, 
disappeared from Bordeaux. He informed the com- 
mandant that he was going to Marseilles in obedience 
to orders, and sent the same message to De Kalb, 

50 



A SEA-TURN 

adding the significant hint, however, that he had 
not given up hope, and the request that De Kalb 
look after his interests. He, indeed, set out by- 
post-chaise on the road to Marseilles in company 
with the Vicomte de Mauroy, a young officer who 
like himself held one of Silas Deane's commissions. 
They left that road, however, at the first convenient 
opportunity and turned their horses directly toward 
Spain. They also made sHght changes in their 
traveling arrangements, after which De Mauroy sat 
in the chaise alone, while Lafayette, dressed like a 
postilion, rode one of the horses. The commandant, 
having his own suspicions, sent some officers riding 
after them. 

At a little town near the frontier, called Saint- 
Jean-de-Luz, it was necessary to change horses. 
The masquerading post-boy threw himself down to 
rest in the stable while the gentleman in the chaise 
attended to the essential business. It was here 
that an inquisitive daughter of the innkeeper, who 
evidently knew a good deal about postilions, recog- 
nized in the youth stretched upon the straw the 
young gentleman she had seen riding in state in the 
other direction only a few days before. Her eyes 
and mouth opened in wonder, but a sign from Lafay- 
ette checked the exclamation upon her lips, and 
when the officers rode up a very demiu-e but very 
positive young woman set them on the wrong trail. 

On the 17th of April Lafayette rejoined De Kalb 
at Los Pasajes, and on Sunday, April 20, 1777, La 
Victoire set sail for America. In addition to the 
captain and crew, De Kalb, the owner of the vessel, 

51 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

and De Mauroy, she had on board about a dozen 
ofScers of various grades, all of whom were anxious 
to serve in the Continental Army. The French 
government took no further measures to interfere. 
Gr^ve matters of state nearer home claimed its at- 
tention; and, since signs of coming war with Eng- 
land grew plainer every day, it may have been well 
content to see this band of officers already enlisted 
against her. M. de Vergennes, the Minister of 
Foreign Affairs, was quoted as saying that the young 
man had run away again, and he would take good 
care this time not to mention the matter to the king. 
After six months of effort Lafayette was at last 
under way. The ship's papers had been made out 
for the West Indies ; but inconvenient orders might 
be awaiting him there, so he ordered the captain to 
sail directly for the mainland. The captain de- 
murred, explaining that an English cruiser could 
take them prisoners and confiscate their cargo if 
their course and their papers did not agree. As 
owner of the vessel Lafayette repeated his orders; 
he even threatened to depose the captain and put 
the second officer in command. But the captain's 
unwillingness appeared so extraordinary that he was 
moved to investigate farther, and found that the 
thrifty man had smuggled merchandise aboard to the 
value of $8,000 which he hoped to sell at a profit. 
Lafayette felt that it was not a time to be over- 
particular. He promised to make good whatever loss 
the captain might sustain, whereupon nervousness 
about English cruisers left him and he steered as 
directed. 

52 



A SEA-TURN 

It proved a long voyage. La Victoire was at sea 
fifty-five dreary days, and Lafayette speedily fell a 
victim to the rollers of the Atlantic; but he wrote 
to his wife he ''had the consolation vouchsafed to 
the wicked of suffering in company with many 
others." When he recovered he began to study 
English, in which he made considerable progress. 
He also studied mihtary science as something about 
which it might be convenient for a major-general to 
know; and he wrote interminable pages to Adrienne, 
full of love, of ennui, and of whimsical arguments 
to prove that he had done the wisest thing, not only 
for his career, but for his health and safety, in offering 
his sword to the Continental Army. 

*'I have been ever since my last letter to you in 
the most dismal of countries," he wrote after he had 
been out a month. "The sea is so wearisome, and 
I believe we have the same doleful influence upon 
each other, it and I." **One day follows another, 
and, what is worse, they are all alike. Nothing but 
sky and nothing but water; and to-morrow it will 
be just the same." **I ought to have landed before 
this, but the winds have cruelly opposed me. I 
shall not see Charleston for eight or ten days longer. 
Once I am there, I have every hope of getting news 
from France. I shall learn then so many interesting 
details, not only of what I am going to find before 
me, but above all of what I left behind me with such 
regret. Provided I find that you are well, and that 
you still love me, and that a certain number of our 
friends are in the same condition, I shall accept 
philosophically whatever else may be." ''How did 

5 53 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

you taJke my second departure? Did you love me 
the less? Have you forgiven me? Have you 
thought that in any event we should have been 
separated, I in Italy dragging along a Hfe with no 
chance to distinguish myself and surrounded by 
people most hostile to my projects and my views?" 

''Consider the difference As the defender of that 

liberty which I adore, free myself beyond all others, 
coming as a friend to offer my services to this most 
interesting repubHc, I bring ... no selfish interests 
to serve. If I am striving for my own glory I am 
at the same time laboring for its welfare. I trust 
that for my sake you will become a good American ; 
it is a sentiment made for virtuous hearts." **Do 
not allow yourself to feel anxiety because I am 
running great danger in the occupation that is before 
me. The post of major-general has always been a 
warrant of long life — so different from the service I 
should have had in France as colonel, for instance. 
With my present rank I shall only have to attend 
coimcils of war. Ask any of the French generals, 
of which there are so many because, having attained 
that rank, they run no further risk. ... In order to 
show that I am not trying to deceive you I will 
admit that we are in danger at this moment, because 
we are likely at any time to be attacked by an Eng- 
lish vessel, and we are not strong enough to defend 
ourselves. But as soon as I land I shall be in per- 
fect safety. You see that I tell you everything in 
order that you may feel at ease and not allow your- 
self to be anxious without cause. . . . But now let us 
talk of more important things," and he goes on to 

54 



A SEA-TURN 

write about their baby daughter, Henrietta, and 
about the new baby, the announcement of whose 
birth he expected to receive very soon after landing. 
**Do not lose a moment in sending me the jo3rful 
news," he commands. "Mr. Deane and my friend 
Carmichael will aid you in this, and I am sure they 
would neglect no opportunity to make me happy as 
quickly as possible. . . . Adieu. Night coming on 
obliges me to stop, for I have lately forbidden the 
use of lights aboard the ship. See how careful I am ! " 

He could afford to dwell on perils of the voyage, 
since these would be safely over before the missive 
could start on its way back to France. The danger 
was by no means imaginary. One of the letters 
written at the time Lafayette's departure was the 
talk of Paris, by a man who knew whereof he spoke, 
had said, "His age may justify his escapade, but I 
am truly sorry, not only for the interest you and the 
Due d'Ayen have in the matter, but because I am 
afraid he may fall in with some EngHsh man-of-war, 
and, not being distinguished from the mass of ad- 
venturers who come into their hands, may be treated 
with a harshness not unknown to that nation." 

La Victoire was a clumsy boat armed with only 
"two old cannon and a few muskets" and stood 
small chance if attacked. Lafayette was perfectly 
aware of this, and had no intention of being taken 
alive. He entered into an agreement with one of 
the company, a brave Dutchman named Bedaulx, 
to blow up the vessel as a last resort, the pleasant 
alternative in any case being hanging. So, with 
a sailor pledged to ignite a few powder-kegs and the 

55 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

captain steering the ship by constraint rather than 
by desire, the long voyage was not devoid of thrills. 
These increased as they neared land. At forty 
leagues from shore La Victoire was overhauled by a 
little vessel. **The captain grew pale," Lafayette 
tells us; but the crew was loyal and the officers were 
numerous and they put up a show of defense. She 
proved to be an American and so much the faster 
boat that she was soon out of sight, though La Vic- 
toire tried hard to keep up with her. Scarcely was 
she gone when the lookout sighted two EngHsh 
frigates. With these they played a game of hide- 
and-seek until they were saved by a providential gale 
which blew the enemy out of his course long enough 
to enable La Victoire to run into shelter near George- 
town, South Carolina. 



VII 

AN AMERICAN PILGRIMAGE 

THE bit of land to which that unneutral north 
wind had wafted the travelers was an island 
about fifteen miles from Georgetown, South Caro- 
lina. Nobody on La Victoire knew the coast, so it 
was prudently decided to reconnoiter in a small 
boat. Lafayette, with De Kalb and two or three 
other officers and a few sailors, started off about two 
o'clock on the afternoon of June 13th, in the ship's 
yawl, and rowed until sunset without encountering 
a soul. After the sun went down they continued to 
row on and on, still in complete solitude, until about 
ten o'clock, when they came upon some negroes 
dredging for oysters. 

Thus the first human beings that Lafayette en- 
countered in the land of the free were slaves; and 
it was not the least picturesque coincidence of his 
picturesque career that these ignorant creatures 
rendered him a service, instead of his helping them. 
Also it is rather amusing that this knight errant of 
noble lineage, who had come so far to fight for free- 
dom, should have made his entry into America in 
the dead of night, in an evil-smelling oyster-boat, 

57 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

instead of with pomp and ceremony from the ship 
his wealth had provided. 

Neither Frenchmen nor slaves could understand 
the speech of the others except in a vague way. The 
Frenchmen thought the slaves said there was a pilot 
somewhere on the island. They seemed to be offer- 
ing to take them to the house of their master, an 
American officer; and as the tide had fallen and it 
was impossible to proceed farther in the yawl, they 
transferred themselves to the oyster-boat and gave 
themselves up to these mysterious guides. For two 
hours the blacks ferried them through the darkness. 
About midnight they saw a light, and soon were put 
ashore to make their way toward it. It was evident 
that their approach caused excitement. Dogs began 
to bark and the inmates of the large house from 
which the light shone appeared to be making prepara- 
tions for a siege. A sharp challenge rang out, which 
indicated that they were mistaken for marauders 
from some British ship. De Kalb replied in his most 
polite English, explaining that they were French 
officers come to offer their swords to the Con- 
tinental Army. Then, with the swiftness of a 
transformation in a fairy play, they found them- 
selves in a glow of light, the center of warm interest, 
and being welcomed with true Southern hospitality. 
No wonder that ever after Lafayette had the kindest 
possible feeHngs for African slaves. 

Mid-June in Carolina is very beautiful; and it 
must have seemed a wonderful world upon which he 
opened his eyes next morning. Outside his window 
was the green freshness of early summer; inside the 

58 



AN AMERICAN PILGRIMAGE 

immaculate luxury of a gentleman's bedchamber — 
both doubly delightful after seven cramped weeks 
at sea. That the smiling blacks who came to min- 
ister to his wants were bondmen, absolutely at the 
mercy of their masters, and that the filmy gauze 
ciurtains enveloping his bed had been put there to 
prevent his being eaten alive by those "gnats which 
cover you with large blisters," about which he after- 
ward wrote Adrienne, were drawbacks and incon- 
sistencies he hardly realized in that first blissful 
awakening= He was always more inchned to enthu- 
siasm than to faultfinding, and nothing that ever 
happened to him in America effaced the joy of his 
first impression. 

His host proved to be Major Benjamin Huger, of 
French Huguenot descent, so he had fallen among 
people of his own nation. Had Major Huger been 
one of his own relatives he could not have been 
kinder or his family more sympathetic ; and it was a 
sympathy that lasted long, for in the group around 
the French officers was a little lad of five who took 
small part in the proceedings at the moment, but 
lost his heart to the tall Frenchman then and there, 
and made a quixotic journey in Lafayette's behalf 
after he was grown. 

The water was too shallow to permit La Victoire 
to enter the harbor at Georgetown, so a pilot was 
sent to take her to Charleston while Lafayette and 
his companions went by land. The reports he re- 
ceived about vigilant English cruisers made him 
send his captain orders to land ofiicers and crew and 
burn the ship if occasion arose and he had time ; but 

59 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

another unneutral wind brought La Victoire into 
Charleston Harbor in broad daylight without en- 
countering friend or foe. 

Major Huger furnished Lafayette and De Kalb 
with horses for the ninety miles and more of bad 
roads that lay between his plantation and Charles- 
ton. The others, for whom no mounts could be 
found, made the distance on foot, arriving ragged and 
worn. But as soon as the city knew why they had 
come, its inhabitants vied with one another in show- 
ering attentions upon them. One of his companions 
wrote that the marquis had been received with all 
the honors due to a marshal of France. Lafayette, 
who sent a letter to his wife by every ship he found 
ready to sail, was eloquent in praise of Charleston 
and its citizens. It reminded him of England, he 
said, but it was neater, and manners were simpler. 
**The richest man and the poorest are upon the 
same social level," he wrote, *'and although there 
are some great fortimes in this country, I defy any 
one to discover the least difference in the bearing of 
one man to another." He thought the women 
beautiful, and Charlestonians the most agreeable 
people he had ever met. He felt as much at ease 
with them as though he had known them for twenty 
years ; and he described a grand dinner at which the 
governor and American generals had been present, 
which lasted five hours. *'We drank many healths 
and spoke very bad English, which language I am be- 
ginning to use a little. To-morrow I shall take the 
gentlemen who accompany me to call upon the gov- 
ernor, and then I shall make preparations to leave." 

60 



AN AMERICAN PILGRIMAGE 

He hoped to provide funds for the journey to 
Philadelphia by selling certain goods he had brought 
on La Victoire. It would have been easy to do this 
had not his trustful nature and ignorance of business 
played him a sorry turn. He found that his un- 
willing friend, the captain, held a note which he had 
signed in a hurry of departure without realizing what 
it contained. It provided that the vessel and cargo 
must be taken back to Bordeaux and sold there. 
This was most embarrassing, because, in spite of his 
large possessions in France, he was a stranger in 
America and had no other way of providing for the 
immediate wants of himself and his companions. 
It proved even more embarrassing than at first 
seemed likely, for the ship never reached Bordeaux. 
She was wrecked on the Charleston bar at the very 
outset of her homeward voyage. 

In his enthusiasm Lafayette had written Adrienne, 
*'What delights me most is that all citizens are 
brothers." Here unexpectedly was a chance to put 
the brotherly quality to the test. He carried his 
dilemma to his new-found friends. They were po- 
lite and sympathetic, but ready money was scarce, 
they told him, and even before La Victoire came to 
her inglorious end he experienced *' considerable 
difficulty" in arranging a loan. Whatever tem- 
porary jolt this gave his theories, his natural opti- 
mism triumphed both in securing money to equip his 
expedition and in preserving intact his good will 
toward the American people. 

By the 25th of June everything was ready and his 
company set out, traveling in three different parties, 

61 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

in order not to overcrowd the inns of that sparsely 
settled region. The gentlemen who had been enter- 
tained by Major Huger traveled together. One of 
them, the ChevaHer du Buisson, wrote an account 
of the journey which explains the order in which 
they set forth. *'The aide-de-camp of the marquis 
undertook to be our guide, although he had no 
possible idea of the country. . . . The procession was 
headed by one of the marquis's people in huzzar 
uniform. The marquis's carriage was a sort of 
uncovered sofa on four springs, with a fore-carriage. 
At the side of his carriage he had one of his servants 
on horseback who acted as his squire. The Baron 
de Kalb was in the same carriage. The two colonels, 
Lafayette's counselors, followed in a second carriage 
with two wheels. The third was for the aides-de- 
camp, the fourth for the luggage, and the rear was 
brought up by a negro on horseback." 

According to Lafayette's reckoning, they traveled 
nearly nine hundred miles through the two Caro- 
linas, Virginia, and the states of Maryland and 
Delaware. But only a small part of the progress 
was made in such elegance. Roads were rough and 
the weather was very hot, which was bad for men 
and horses ahke. Some of the company fell ill; 
some of the horses went lame; some of the luggage 
was stolen; some of it had to be left behind. Extra 
horses had to be bought, and this used up most of 
the money. On the 1 7th of July Lafayette wrote to 
Adrienne from Petersburg: **I am at present about 
eight days' journey from Philadelphia in the beau- 
tiful land of Virginia. . . . You have learned of the 

62 



AN AMERICAN PILGRIMAGE 

beginning of my journey and how brilliantly I set 
out in a carriage. ... At present we are all on horse- 
back, after having broken up the wagons in my 
usual praiseworthy fashion; and I expect to write 
you in a few days that we have arrived on foot.'' 
He admitted that there had been some fatigue, but 
as for himself he had scarcely noticed it, so in- 
terested had he been in the great new country with 
its vast forests and large rivers; ''everything, in- 
deed, to give nature an appearance of youth and of 
majesty." ''The farther north I proceed the better 
I like this country and its people.'* 

There was no regularity about sending mail across 
the Atlantic, and as yet he had not heard from home. 
Doubtless the hope of finding letters spurred on his 
desire to reach Philadelphia. From Annapolis he 
and De Kalb alone were able to proceed without a 
halt, leaving the rest of the party behind for needed 
repose. They reached Philadelphia on July 27th. 
Even with this final burst of speed they had con- 
sumed a whole month in a journey that can now 
be made in less than twenty-four hours. 



VIII 

AN ASTONISHING RECEPTION 

ALL Lafayette's company had been looking for- 
• ward to their reception by Congress as full 
recompense for sufferings by the way. Knowing 
that they had come to offer help, and having already 
experienced the hospitality of Charleston, they 
dreamed of a similar welcome increased and made 
more effective by official authority. They hastened 
to present their letters of introduction and their 
credentials; and it was a great blow to find that 
they were met, not with enthusiasm, but with cold- 
ness. Lafayette said their reception was ''more 
like a dismissal." We are indebted to the Chevalier 
du Buisson for an account of this unexpected rebuff. 
** After having brushed ourselves up a little we went 
to see the President of Congress, to whom we pre- 
sented our letters of recommendation and also our 
contracts. He sent us to Mr. Moose [Morris?], a 
member of Congress, who made an appointment to 
meet us on the following day at the door of Congress, 
and in the mean time our papers were to be read and 
examined." Next day they were very punctual, but 
were made to wait a long time before *'Mr. Moose" 
appeared with a Mr. Lovell and told them all com- 

64 



AN ASTONISHING RECEPTION 

munication must be made through him. Still 
standing in the street, Mr. Lovell talked with them 
and finally walked away and left them, "after having 
treated us in excellent French, like a set of ad- 
venturers. . . . This was our first reception by Con- 
gress, and it would have been impossible for any 
one to be more stupefied than we were. Would it 
have been possible for M. de Lafayette, M. de Kalb, 
and M. de Mauroy with ten officers recommended 
as we had been, and secretly approved, if not openly 
avow^ed by the government of France, to expect such 
a reception as this?'* 

One can imagine the varying degrees of resentment 
and disgust with which they watched Mr. Lovell dis- 
appear. If La Victoire had been there, ready pro- 
visioned for a voyage, very likely not one of them 
would have remained an hour longer in America. 
But La Victoire was not at hand and Lafayette's 
sunny optimism was on the spot to serve them well. 
**We determined," says Du Buisson, "to wait and 
to discover the cause of this affront, if possible, 
before making any complaint." 

They discovered that they had come at the worst 
possible time. A number of foreign adventurers had 
hurried from the West Indies and Europe and 
offered their services at the beginning of the war. 
Being desperately in need of trained officers, Con- 
gress had given some of them commissions, though 
their demands for rank and privilege were beyond 
all reason. This, coupled with their bad behavior 
after entering the army, had incensed officers of 
American birth, who threatened to resign if any 

65 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

more Europeans were taken into the army with 
rank superior to their own. The protest had 
reached almost the proportions of a strike. At that 
very moment a French artillery officer named De 
Coudray was giving Congress no end of trouble, and 
indeed continued to do so until, ** by a happy acci- 
dent,'* as Franklin cynically put it, he was drowned 
in the Schuylkill River a few weeks later. 

There was nothing to prove that Lafayette and 
his friends differed from the rest. Like them they 
were foreigners with high-sounding titles in front 
of their names and requests for major-generalships 
tripping speedily after their offers of help. As for 
Silas Deane's contracts — Deane had commissioned 
some of the very worst of these men. Congress had 
reached the point where it proposed to end the 
trouble by refusing to honor any more of his agree- 
ments. Mr. Lovell told Lafayette and his com- 
panions smartly that French officers had a great 
fancy for entering the American army uninvited, 
that America no longer needed them, having plenty 
of experienced men of her own now; and walked 
away, leaving them standing there in the street. 

Lafayette, not being like the others, determined 
to make Congress aware of the fact. He wrote a 
letter to that august body, stating why and how he 
had come to America, and adding: *' After the sacri- 
fices that I have made in this cause I have the right 
to ask two favors at your hands. The one is to 
serve without pay, and the other that I be allowed to 
serve first as a volunteer." Congress immediately 
sat up and took notice of the young man, the more 

66 



AN ASTONISHING RECEPTION 

readily because of two letters which arrived from 
Paris showing that he was of importance in his own 
country. The first was signed by Silas Deane and 
by Benjamin Franklin, and read: 

"The Marquis de Lafayette, a young nobleman of 
great family connection here and great wealth, is 
gone to America on a ship of his own, accompanied 
by some officers of distinction, in order to serve in 
our armies. He is exceedingly beloved, and every- 
body's good wishes attend him. We cannot but 
hope he may meet with such a reception as will make 
the country and his expedition agreeable to him. 
Those who censure it as imprudent in him do, never- 
theless, applaud his spirit; and we are satisfied that 
the civilities and respect that may be shown him will 
be serviceable to our affairs here, as pleasing not 
only to his powerful relations, and to the court, but 
to the whole French nation. He leaves a beautiful 
young wife . . . and for her sake particularly we hope 
that his bravery and ardent desire to distinguish him- 
self will be a little restrained by the general's pru- 
dence, so as not to permit his being hazarded much, 
but on some important occasion." The other was 
a communication from the French government re- 
questing the Congress of the United States not to 
give employment to the Marquis de Lafayette. 
But Congress took the hint contained in Franklin's 
letter and regarded this for just what it was — a bit 
of official routine. 

Mr. Lovell hastened to call upon Lafayette in 
company with another gentleman who had better 
manners, and made an attempt at apology. This 

67 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

interview led to a more private talk in which he was 
offered a commission of major-general without pay 
and without promise of a command, to date from that 
time, and to have no connection whatever with Silas 
Deane's former promises. To this Lafayette agreed. 
Some of his friends did not fare so well, but even 
these felt that he did everything in his power to 
further their interests. "If he had had his way," 
says Du Buisson, *'De Kalb would have been a ma- 
jor-general, and we should all have had places." 
The situation was particularly trying to De Kalb, 
who was so much older and had seen so much actual 
miHtary service. On board La Victoire he had been 
only Lafayette's guest, though the guest of honor 
and, next to the owner, the most important person 
aboard. Under such conditions, good manners 
forced him to play a subordinate part ; and if it be 
true that he and De Broglie were using Lafayette*s 
generosity to further their own ends, that was another 
reason for circumspect behavior. But after landing 
it must have been galling to see this young captain 
of twenty made a major-general ''on demand," while 
his thirty-four years of experience were completely 
ignored. On the day after Lafayette's appoint- 
ment De Kalb wrote Congress a letter in his turn, 
complaining bitterly and asking either that he be 
made a major-general, ''with the seniority I have a 
right to expect," or that he and the other officers 
who had come with Lafayette be refunded the money 
they had spent on the journey. He said he was very 
glad Congress had granted Lafayette's wishes. "He 
is a worthy young man, and no one will outdo him 

68 



AN ASTONISHING RECEPTION 

in enthusiasm in your cause of liberty and inde- 
pendence. My wish will always be that his success 
as a major-general will equal his zeal and your ex- 
pectation." But De Kalb plainly had his doubts; 
and he did not hesitate to *' confess, sir, that this 
distinction between him and myself is painful and 
very displeasing to me. We came on the same 
errand, with the same promises, and as military men 
and for military purposes. I flatter myself that if 
there was to be any preference, it would be due to 
me." He hinted that he might sue Mr. Deane for 
damages, and he added: '*I do not think that either 
my name, my services, or my person are proper 
objects to be trifled with or laughed at. I cannot 
tell you, sir, how deeply I feel the injury done to me, 
or how ridiculous it seems to me to make people 
leave their homes, families, and affairs, to cross the 
sea under a thousand different dangers, to be re- 
ceived and to be looked at with contempt by those 
from whom you were to expect but warm welcome." 

Congress could have answered with perfect jus- 
tice that it had not "made" these gentlemen travel 
one foot toward America or brave a single danger. 
But on the basis of Deane's contract it was clearly 
in the wrong and it had no wish to insult France, 
though it could not afford to anger the American 
generals. It therefore decided to thank the French 
officers for their zeal in coming to America and to 
pay their expenses home again. Most of them did 
return, some by way of Boston, others from Southern 
ports. De Kalb meant to accompany the latter 
group, but a fever detained him for several weeks in 

6 69 



THE BOYS* LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Philadelphia; and just as he was leaving a messenger 
brought him word that he had been made major- 
general through the influence of several members of 
Congress who had made his personal acquaintance 
and were more impressed by the man himself than 
by his petulant letter. At first he was incHned to 
refuse, fearing the other French officers might feel 
he had deserted them, but on reflection he accepted, 
and, as every one knows, rendered great service to 
the United States. 

Lafayette wrote Congress a letter of thanks in 
English — an excellent letter, considering the short 
time he had been using the language, but neither in 
wording nor in spelhng exactly as a native would 
have written it. In this letter he expressed the hope 
that he might be allowed to ''serve near the person of 
General Washington till such time as he may think 
proper to intrust me with a division of the army." 

General Washington's previous experience with 
the French had been unfortunate. He had met 
them as enemies in the neighborhood of Fort Du- 
quesne before Lafayette was born. They had taken 
part in the defeat of General Braddock, and during 
the present war their actions had not been of a kind 
to endear them to him. Probably even after reading 
Franklin's letter he did not look forward with the 
least pleasure to meeting this young sprig of the 
French nobility. Still, Washington was a just man 
and the first to admit that every man has the right 
to be judged on his own merits. 

It was at a dinner, one of the lucky dinners in 
Lafayette's career, that the two met for the first 

70 



AN ASTONISHING RECEPTION 

time. The company was a large one, made up of the 
most distinguished men in Philadelphia; but from 
the moment Washington entered the room Lafayette 
was sure he was the greatest in the company. ' *The 
majesty of his countenance and his figure made it 
impossible not to recognize him," while his manners 
seemed to Lafayette as affable and kindly as they 
were dignified. Washington on his part observed 
the slim young Frenchman throughout the evening, 
and was also favorably impressed. Before the party 
broke up he drew him aside for a short conversation 
and invited him to become a member of his military 
family, saying with a smile that he could not offer the 
luxuries of a court or even the conveniences to which 
Lafayette had been accustomed, but that he was now 
an American soldier and would of course accommo- 
date himself to the privations of a republican camp. 
Pleased and elated as a boy, Lafayette accepted, 
sent his horses and luggage to camp, and took up his 
residence at Washington's headquarters. ''Thus 
simply," he wrote in his Memoirs, "came about the 
union of two friends whose attachment and confi- 
dence were cemented by the greatest of interests." 
In truth this sudden flowering of friendship between 
the middle-aged Washington, who appeared so cool, 
though in fact he had an ardent nature, and the en- 
thusiastic Frenchman twenty-five years his junior, 
is one of the pleasantest glimpses we have into the 
kindly human heart of each. It took neither of 
them one instant to recognize the worth of the other, 
and the mutual regard thus established lasted as 
long as life itself. 

71 



IX 

PROVING HIMSELF A SOLDIER 

THE American army as Lafayette first saw it 
must have seemed a strange body of men to 
eyes accustomed to holiday parades in Paris. The 
memory of it remained with him years afterward 
when he wrote that it consisted of "about eleven 
thousand men, rather poorly armed, and much 
worse clad." There was a great variety in the 
clothing, some unmistakable nakedness, and the 
best garments were only loose hunting-shirts of gray 
linen, of a cut with which he had already become 
familiar in Carolina. The soldiers were drawn up 
in two lines, the smaller ones in front, "but with this 
exception there was no distinction made as to size." 
It was while reviewing these troops that Washington 
said, "it is somewhat embarrassing to us to show 
ourselves to an officer who has just come from the 
army of France," to which Lafayette made the 
answer that won the hearts of all, "I am here to 
learn, not to teach." He speedily learned that in 
spite of their appearance and their way of marching 
and maneuvering, which seemed to him childishly 
simple, they were "fine soldiers led by zealous 
officers," in whom "bravery took the place of 



science." 



72 



PROVING HIMSELF A SOLDIER 

Judging by what they had accomplished, they 
were indeed wonders. It was now August, 1777. 
Lexington had been fought in April, 1775, and in 
that space of more than two years England had 
been unable to make real headway against the in- 
surrection which General Gage had at first thought 
could be thoroughly crushed by four British regi- 
ments. That mistake had soon become apparent. 
Large reinforcements had been sent from England 
with new generals. At present there were two 
British armies in the field. Time and again the 
ragged Continentals had been beaten, yet in a 
bewildering fashion they continued to grow in 
importance in the eyes of the world. 

The first part of the struggle had all taken place 
in the neighborhood of Boston; hence the name 
''Bostonians" by which the Americans had been 
applauded in Paris. But after General Howe was 
held for a whole winter in Boston in a state of siege 
he sailed away for Halifax in March, 1776, with all 
his troops and aU the Tories who refused to stay 
without him. This was nothing less than an ad- 
mission that he was unable to cope with the Ameri- 
cans. He sent word to England that it would re- 
quire at least 50,000 men to do it — ^10,000 in New 
England, 20,000 in the Middle States, 10,000 in the 
South, and 10,000 to beat General Washington, who 
had developed such an uncanny power of losing 
battles, yet gaining prestige. 

The War Office in London refused to believe 
General Howe. It reasoned that New England was, 
after all, only a small section of country which could 

73 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

be dealt with later; so it let it severely alone and 
concentrated attention upon New York with a view 
to getting command of the Hudson River. The 
Hudson would afford a direct route up to the Cana- 
dian border, and Canada was already British terri- 
tory. It ought not to be difficult to gain control of 
one Atlantic seaport and one river. That accom- 
plished, the rebellion would be cut in two as neatly 
as though severed with a knife, and it would be easy 
enough to dispose of New England and of the South 
in turn. 

So General Howe was ordered back to carry out 
this plan. He appeared off Stat en Island with 
twenty-five thousand men on the day after the 
Declaration of Independence was signed. In the 
thirteen months that elapsed between his coming 
and the day Lafayette first reviewed the American 
army General Washington had been able to keep 
Howe and all his forces at bay. He had marched 
and retreated and maneuvered. He had lost battles 
and men. Lost New York, as had been reported in 
Paris ; had indeed lost most of his army, as the Amer- 
ican commissioners admitted to Lafayette; yet in 
some mysterious way he continued to fight. By 
brilliant strategy he had gained enough victory to 
rekindle hope after hope seemed dead; and never, 
even when the outlook was darkest, had the British 
been able to get full control of the Hudson River. 

The British government, annoyed by Howe's de- 
lay, sent over another army under General Burgoyne 
in the spring of 1777, with orders to go down from 
Canada and end the matter. When last heard from, 

74 



PROVING HIMSELF A SOLDIER 

this army had taken Ticonderoga and was pursuing 
General Schuyler through eastern New York. Gen- 
eral Howe, meanwhile, appeared to have dropped 
off the map. He was no longer in force near New 
York, nor had Washington any definite news of his 
whereabouts. This was the situation when Lafay- 
ette became a member of Washington's military 
family; a major-general without pay, experience, or 
a command. 

He took his commission seriously enough to cause 
his general some misgiving; for, after all, Washington 
knew nothing about his ability, only that he liked 
him personally. Lafayette frankly admitted his 
youth and inexperience, but always accompanied 
such admissions with a hint that he was ready to 
assume command as soon as the general saw fit to 
intrust him with it. On the 19th of August Wash- 
ington wrote to Benjamin Harrison, a member of 
Congress, telling him his perplexity and asking him 
to find out how matters really stood. If Lafayette's 
commission had been merely honorary, as Washing- 
ton supposed, the young man ought to be made fully 
aware of his mistake; if not, Washington would like 
to know what was expected of him. The answer 
returned was that Washington must use his own 
judgment ; and for a time matters drifted. Lafayette 
meanwhile took gallant advantage of every small 
opportunity that came his way, both for asstuning 
responsibility and for doing a kindness. He proved 
himself ready to bear a little more than his full 
share of hardship, and, by constant cheerfulness and' 
willingness to accept whatever duty was assigned 

75 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

him, came to be regarded as by far the best foreigner 
in the army^ — though of course hopelessly and for- 
ever a foreigner. In his letters home he often 
touched upon the discontent of other men of Euro- 
pean birth "who complain, detest, and are detested 
in turn. They do not understand why I alone am 
liked. . . . For my part I cannot understand why 
they are so heartily detested. ... I am happy in 
being loved by everybody, foreign and American. I 
like them all, hope to merit their esteem, and we 
are well content with each other." 

It was on the 21st of August, two days after 
Washington's letter to Mr. Harrison, that Lafayette 
was called to attend the first council of war — that 
duty about which he had playfully written to his 
wife. The question was what to do next, for General 
Howe and his army had not been seen or heard of 
for weeks. That meant that he was planning some 
surprise; but from which direction would it come? 

The truth was that General Howe had allowed 
himself to be lured away from the Hudson by his 
ambition to capture Philadelphia, knowing what a 
blow it would be to the Americans to lose their chief 
town where Congress was sitting. As soon as this 
was accomplished he meant to return to his former 
duty To the American officers gathered around 
the map on the council table his whereabouts was 
a great mystery, for they thought ample time had 
elapsed for him to appear in Chesapeake Bay if 
Philadelphia was indeed his objective. Presum- 
ably he meant to attack some other place, and 
Charleston seemed to be the only other place of suffi- 

76 



PROVING HIMSELF A SOLDIER 

cient importance to merit his attention. As it was 
manifestly impossible to get Washington's army that 
far south in time to be of assistance, it was deter- 
mined to leave Charleston to its fate and to move 
nearer to New York to guard the Hudson. With 
Burgoyne descending from the north and Howe in 
hiding, it was quite possible that the river might 
soon be menaced from two directions. The battle 
of Bennington, a severe check for Burgoyne, had in 
fact occurred three days before, but it is probable 
they had not yet heard of it. 

The day after the council, ships carrying Howe's 
ajmy were sighted in Chesapeake Bay, which proved 
without doubt that Philadelphia was his goal. 
Washington faced his men about, and, in order to 
cheer Philadelphians and give his soldiers a realiza- 
tion of what they were defending, marched the 
army through the city *'down Front Street to Chest- 
nut, and up Chestnut to Elm," riding, himself, at 
the head of his troops, a very handsome figure on 
his white horse, Lafayette conspicuous among the 
staff -officers, and the privates wearing sprigs of 
green in their hats as they marched to a lively air. 
They were joined as they went along by Pennsyl- 
vania mihtia and by other volunteers who hastened 
forward, American fashion, at prospect of a battle. 
Thus Washington's force was increased to about 
fifteen thousand by the time he neared the enemy. 
Most of these new arrivals were, however, worse off 
for clothing and arms — -and discipline — than the 
original army, so his force by no means matched 
either in numbers or equipment the eighteen thou- 

77 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

sand British soldiers, thoroughly supplied according 
to the best standards of the day, which were dis- 
embarked by Comwallis ''at the Head of Elk," the 
inlet of Chesapeake Bay nearest to the city 

There were several preliminary skirmishes, during 
which Lafayette learned that Washington could be 
as personally reckless as the youngest lieutenant. 
On the day the British landed he exposed himself 
in a reconnaissance and was forced to remain through 
a night of storm, with Lafayette and Gen. Nathanael 
Greene, in a farm-house very near the enemy lines. 

^The main battle for the defense of Philadelphia 
occurred on the nth of September, on the banks of 
a little stream called the Brandywine, about twenty- 
five miles from the city. Washington intrenched 
his force upon the hilly ground of its east bank, but, 
owing to woods which made it hard to observe the 
enemy, to the ease with which the stream could be 
forded, and to the superior numbers of the British, 
this position was turned and his army forced back 
toward Chester. It was Lafayette's first battle, 
and the zeal with which he threw himself into the 
unequal contest, the quickness of his perceptions, 
and the courage he showed in following up his in- 
stinct of the thing to do with the act of doing it, won 
the admiration of all who saw him. After that day 
the army forgot he was a foreigner and looked upon 
him as one of themselves. ''Never/' he says, "was 
adoption more complete." 

During the hottest of the fight he had leaped from 
his horse down among the men, striving by voice and 
example to rally them to make a stand against 

78 



PROVING HIMSELF A SOLDIER 

Comwallis's fast-approaching column. Lord Sterling 
and General Sullivan had come to his aid and the 
three had held their ground until the British were 
only twenty yards away, when they took refuge in a 
wood. Lafayette's left leg had been struck by a 
musket-ball, but he was unconscious of this until 
another officer called attention to the blood running 
from his boot. With the help of his French aide-de- 
camp, Major de Gimat, who had come with him on 
La Victoire, he remounted his horse, but remained 
with the troops and was borne along in the general 
retreat toward Chester, which became very like a 
rout as night approached; men and guns hurrying 
on in ever-increasing confusion. Near Chester 
there was a bridge, and here, though Lafayette was 
weak from loss of blood, he placed guards and, 
halting the fugitives as they came up, managed to 
bring something like order into the chaos. It was 
only after Washington and other generals reached 
the spot that he consented to have his wound 
properly dressed. Washington's midnight report 
to Congress mentioned the gallantry of the young 
Frenchman. 

Lafayette's injury was not at all dangerous, but it 
was quite serious enough to keep him in bed for a 
month or more. He was taken to Philadelphia, and 
Washington sent his most skilful surgeon to attend 
him, with orders to care for him as he would for his 
own son. Later, when Howe's continued approach 
made it certain the city must pass into British hands, 
he was sent by water to Bristol on the Delaware 
River, and from that point Mr. Henry Laurens, the 

79 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

new President of Congress, on the way to join his 
fleeing fellow-members, who were to resume their 
sessions at York, gave him a lift in his traveling- 
carriage as far as Bethlehem, where the Moravians 
nursed him back to health. 

De Kalb and other military friends took a real, if 
humorously expressed, interest in his "little wound,*' 
and on his part he declared that he valued it at 
more than five hundred guineas. He had hastened 
to write his wife all about it, not too seriously, "for 
fear that General Howe, who sends his royal master 
rather exaggerated details of his exploits in America, 
may report that I am not only wounded, but dead. 
It would cost him no more." Reports of Lafayette's 
death were indeed circulated in France, but Madame 
d'Ayen managed to keep them from her daughter. 
Lafayette assured his wife that his injury was "only 
a flesh wound, touching neither bone nor nerves. 
The surgeons are astonished at the rapidity with 
which it heals, and fall into ecstasies every time it is 
dressed, pretending it is the loveliest thing in the 
world. For myself, I find it very dirty, very much 
of a bore, and quite painful enough ; but in truth, if 
a man wanted a wound merely for diversion's sake 
he could not do better than come and examine mine, 
with a view to copying it. There, dear heart, is the 
true history of this thing that I give myself airs 
about and pompously call *my wound' in order to 
appear interesting." 



LETTERS 

LAFAYETTE had plenty of time for thought as 
' he lay in his neat room, waited upon by the wife 
of the chief farmer of the Bethlehem Society and her 
daughter, Lissel. Much of the time was spent in 
wondering about Adrienne, of whom as yet he had 
received news only once. As this was brought him 
by Count Pulaski, who left Paris before the birth 
of the expected child, Lafayette did not know 
whether his new baby was a boy or a girl, whether 
it had been bom alive or dead, or how his wife had 
come through the ordeal. He could only send her 
long letters at every opportunity, well knowing 
"that King George might receive some of them 
instead." In these he sent messages to many 
French friends, not forgetting his old tutor, the Abbe 
Fey on, but he did not enlarge upon all phases of his 
American life. "At present I am in the solitude of 
Bethlehem, about which the Abbe Raynal has so 
much to say," he told her. "This community is 
really touching and very interesting. We will talk 
about it after I return, when I mean to bore every 
one I love, you, consequently, most of all, with stories 
of my travels." He did not think it wise to refer 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

in letters to one amusing phase of the situation in 
which he found himself at Bethlehem — the visits 
paid him by influential members of the Moravian 
brotherhood, who took a deep interest in his spiritual 
welfare and tried their best to convert him from a 
warrior into a pacifist. 

It was while listening, or appearing to listen, po- 
litely to their sermons upon peace that his mind 
darted over the earth, here and there, even to far- 
distant Asia, planning warlike expeditions for the aid 
of his American friends. When his peaceful hosts 
departed he wrote letters embodying these plans. 
As he says in his Memoirs, he could *'do nothing 
except write letters." One, which he addressed to 
the French governor of Martinique, proposed an 
attack on the British West Indies, to be carried out 
under the American flag. He had also the temerity 
to write to M. de Maurepas, proposing a descent 
upon the British in India. The boldness of the 
idea, and the impudence of Lafayette in suggesting 
it while he was still under the ban of the French 
government, caused the old man to chuckle. ' ' Once 
that boy got an idea in his head there was no stopping 
him," he said. ''Some day he would strip Ver- 
sailles of its furniture for the sake of his Americans," 
and thereafter he showed a marked partiality for 
''that boy." 

Matters had gone badly for the Americans since 
the battle of the Brandywine. General Howe 
occupied Philadelphia on September 26th; on 
October 4th Washington lost the battle of German- 
town. Since then the army had been moving from 

82 



LETTERS 

camp to camp, seeking a spot not too exposed, yet 
from which it could give General Howe all possible 
annoyance. Clearly this was no time to be lying in 
tidy, sunlit rooms listening to sermons on non- 
resistance. Before he was able to bear the weight 
of his military boot Lafayette rejoined the army. 
An entry in the diary of the Bethlehem Congrega- 
tion, dated October i6, 1777, reads: ''The French 
Marquis, whom we have found to be a very intelli- 
gent and pleasant young man, came to bid us adieu, 
and requested to be shown through the Sisters' 
House, which we were pleased to grant. He was 
accompanied by his adjutant, and expressed his 
admiration of the institution. While recovering 
from his wound he spent much of his time in reading." 
Under date of October i8th is another entry, "The 
French Marquis and General Woodford left for the 
army to-day." 

On the day between Lafayette's visit of farewell 
and his actual departure Gen. John Burgoyne, who 
had set out confidently from Canada to open the 
Hudson River, ended by surrendering his entire 
army. He had thought he was pursuing ragged 
Continental soldiers when in truth they were luring 
him through the autumn woods to his ruin. He 
awoke to find his communications cut and his armxy 
compelled to fight a battle or starve. It gallantly 
fought two battles near Saratoga, one on September 
19th, the other on October 7th; but both went 
against him and ten days later he gave up his sword 
and nearly six thousand British soldiers to *'mere" 
Americans. 

83 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Up to that time a puzzled world had been unable 
to understand how the American cause continued to 
gain. The capture of a whole British army, how- 
ever, was something tangible that Europe could 
fully comprehend, and respect for the Revolution 
measurably increased. The victory had even greater 
effect in Europe than in America, though at home 
there was much rejoicing and a marked gain in the 
value of those ''promises to pay" which Congress 
issued as a means of getting money for current 
expenses. 

But Burgoyne's surrender threatened to have very 
serious effects upon the personal fortunes of General 
Washington, and in lesser degree upon those of 
Lafayette. People began contrasting the results of 
the summer's campaign. Washington, in command 
of the main army, had lost Philadelphia, while 
farther north General Gates, with fewer men, had 
not only captured Burgoyne, but cleared the whole 
region of enemy troops. There were those who did 
not hesitate to say that Washington ought to be 
deposed and Gates put in his place. 

In reahty Gates had almost nothing to do with the 
surrender of Burgoyne. The strategy which led up 
to the battles of Saratoga was the work of General 
Schuyler, who was forced out of command by in- 
trigue and superseded by Gates just before the 
crowning triumph. The battles themselves had not 
been fought under the personal orders of the new 
commander, but under Benedict Arnold and Gen. 
Daniel Morgan, with the help of the Polish General 
Kosciuszko in planning defenses. It was piire luck, 

84 



LETTERS 

therefore, which brought Gates the fame; but, being 
a man of more ambition than good judgment, with 
an excellent opinion of himself, he was the last 
person in the world to discourage praise of his 
ability. 

Discontent against Washington was fanned by 
born intriguers like the Irish General Conway and 
by the more despicable Gen. Charles Lee, a traitor 
at heart. Lafayette became involved quite inno- 
cently, in the plot against him, known to history as 
the Conway Cabal. Two things, good in them- 
selves, were responsible for it. One was his opti- 
mistic belief in human nature ; the other, his increas- 
ing military renown. The latter was the result of a 
very small engagement in which he took a very large 
part shortly after rejoining the army. The main 
camp was then about fifteen miles from Philadelphia, 
but General Greene had taken his division over 
into New Jersey, where he was endeavoring to make 
life uncomfortable for General Howe. Lafayette 
obtained permission to join him as a volunteer, and 
on the 25 th of November went out with about three 
hundred men to reconnoiter a position held by the 
British at Gloucester, opposite Philadelphia. He 
could clearly see them carrying across the river the 
provisions they had gathered in a raid in New Jersey, 
and they might easily have killed or captured him 
had they been on the lookout. Some of his men 
advanced to within two miles and a half of Glouces- 
ter, where they came upon a post of three hundred 
and fifty Hessians with field-pieces. What followed 
is told briefly in his own words. *'As my little 
7 8s 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

reconnoitering party was all in fine spirits, I sup- 
ported them. We pushed the Hessians more than 
half a mile from the place where their main body 
was, and we made them run very fast." The vigor 
of his attack made Comwallis believe General 
Greene's entire division was upon him, and he hur- 
ried to the relief of his Hessians. This was more 
than Lafayette bargained for, and he drew off in the 
gathering darkness with the loss of only one man 
killed and five wounded, carrying with him fourteen 
Hessian prisoners, while twice that number, including 
an officer, remained on the field. 

General Greene had described Lafayette to his 
wife as ' ' one of the sweetest-tempered young gentle- 
men." Now his soldierly qualities impressed him. 
"The marquis is determined to be in the way of 
danger," was the comment he appended to his own 
account of the affair; and he ordered Lafayette to 
make his report directly to Washington, which the 
yotmg man did in the boyishly jubilant epistle 
written in quaint French English which told how 
the Hessians ''ran very fast." The letter fairly 
bubbled with pride over the behavior of his militia 
and his rifle corps; and, not content with expressing 
this to his Commander-in-chief, he lined them up 
next morning and made them a little speech, telling 
them exactly how he felt about it. An EngHshman 
or an American could scarcely have done it with 
grace, but it was manifestly spontaneous on his part 
— one of those little acts which so endeared Lafay- 
ette to his American friends both in and out of the 
army. 

86 



LETTERS 

Washington sent on the news to Congress with the 
intimation that his young friend had now proved his 
ability and might be trusted with the command he 
so longed for. ''He possesses uncommon miHtary 
talents," Washington wrote, *'is of a quick and 
sound judgment, persevering and enterprising with- 
out rashness, and, besides these, he is of conciliating 
temper and perfectly sober — which are qualities that 
rarely combine in the same person." At that mo- 
ment of bickering in the army and of popular criti- 
cism of himself they must have seemed exceptionally 
rare to Washington. Congress expressed its willing- 
ness, and we learn from a long letter written by 
Lafayette to his father-in-law and carried across the 
ocean by no less a personage than John Adams, when 
he went to replace Silas Deane at Paris, that Wash- 
ington offered him the choice of several different 
divisions. 

He chose one made up entirely of Virginians, 
though it was weak **even in proportion to the 
weakness of the entire army," and very sadly in need 
of clothing. *'I am given hope of cloth out of which 
I must make coats and recruits out of which I must 
make soldiers in almost the same space of time. 
Alas ! the one is harder than the other, even for men 
more skilled than I," he wrote, just before the army 
went into its melancholy winter quarters at Valley 
Forge. ''We shall be in huts there all winter," 
Lafayette explained. "It is there that the Ameri- 
can army will try to clothe itself, because it is naked 
with an entire nakedness; to form itself, because it 
is in need of instruction ; and to recruit its numbers, 

87 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

because it is very weak. But the thirteen states 
are going to exert themselves and send us men," he 
added, cheerfully. **I hope my division will be one 
of the strongest, and I shall do all in my power to 
make it one of the best." 

He was striving to make the most of his oppor- 
tunity. 'T read, I study, I examine, I listen, I 
reflect, and upon the result of all this I endeavor to 
form my opinion and to put into it as much common 
sense as I can. I am cautious about talking too 
much, lest I should say some foolish thing; and still 
more cautious in my actions lest I should do some 
foolish thing; for I do not want to disappoint the 
confidence the Americans have so kindly placed 
in me." 

There was not much to do after the army went into 
winter quarters; and France seemed very far away. 
**What is the use of writing news in a letter destined 
to travel for years and to reach you finally in tat- 
ters?" he wrote Adrienne on November 6th. **You 
may receive this letter, dear heart, in the course of 
five or six years, for I write by a crooked chance, of 
which I have no great opinion. See the route it will 
take. An officer of the army carries it to Fort Pitt, 
three hundred miles toward the back of the con- 
tinent. There it will embark on the Ohio and float 
through a region inhabited by savages. When it 
reaches New Orleans a little boat will transport it 
to the Spanish Isles, from which a vessel of that 
nation will take it (Lord knows when!) when it 
returns to Europe. But it will still be far from you, 
and only after having passed through all the grimy 

88 



LETTERS 

hands of Spanish postal officials will it be allowed to 
cross the Pyrenees. It may be unsealed and re- 
sealed five or six times before reaching you. So it 
will be proof that I neglect not a single chance, even 
the remotest, to send you news of me and to repeat 
how much I love you. ... It is cruel to think . . . 
that my true happiness is two hundred leagues 
distant, across an immense ocean infested by 
scoundrelly English vessels. They make me very 
unhappy, those villainous ships. Only one let- 
ter from you, one single letter, dear heart, has 
reached me as yet. The others are lost, cap- 
tured, lying at the bottom of the sea, to all 
appearances. I can only blame our enemies for 
this horrible privation; for you surely would 
not neglect to write me from every port and by 
every packet sent out by Doctor Franklin and Mr. 
Deane." 

On his part, he neglected not a single opportunity. 
On one occasion he even sent her a letter by the hand 
of an English officer, a Mr. Fitzpatrick, with whom 
he had begun a friendship during his visit to London. 
This gentleman had come to Philadelphia with 
General Howe, and Lafayette learned in some way 
that he was about to return to England. "I could 
not resist the desire to embrace him before his 
departure. We arranged a rendezvous in this town 
(Germantown). It is the first time that we have 
met without arms in our hands, and it pleases us 
both much better than the enemy airs we have here- 
tofore given ourselves . . . there is no news of interest. 
Besides, it would not do for Mr. Fitzpatrick to trans- 

89 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

port political news written by a hand at present 
engaged against his army." 

It was this friendly enemy, Mr. Fitzpatrick, who 
lifted his voice in the British House of Commons in 
Lafayette's behalf, when the latter was a prisoner 
in Germany. 



XI 

A fool's errand 

THE more Lafayette studied Washington the more 
he was confirmed in his first swift impression. 
' ' Our general is a man really created for this Revolu- 
tion, which could not succeed without him," he wrote 
the Due d'Ayen. ''I see him more intimately than 
any one else in the world, and I see him worthy the 
adoration of his country. . . . His name will be 
revered in future ages by all lovers of liberty and 
humanity." 

Such admiration seemed unlikely ground upon 
v/hich to work for Washington's undoing, but this 
was what his enemies attempted. Part of their 
plan was to win away Washington's trusted friends, 
and Lafayette's good will would be particularly 
valuable, because he was looked upon in a way as 
representing France. The winter proved unusually 
severe, and when the sufferings of the soldiers at 
Valley Forge began to be noised abroad criticism of 
Washington increased. It was pointed out that 
Burgoyne's captured army was being fed at Ameri- 
can expense, that General Clinton's forces were 
comfortably housed in New York, while General 
Howe and his officers were enjoying a brilliant social 

91 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

season at Philadelphia; but at Valley Forge there 
was only misery. General Conway was there him- 
self, working up his plot. 

Lafayette was so kindly disposed that it was hard 
for him to believe others evil-minded. Also he was 
frankly ambitious. Thomas Jefferson once said of 
him that he had **a canine appetite" for fame. 
Conway played skilfully on both these traits, pro- 
fessing great friendship for Lafayette and throwing 
out hints of glory to be gained in service under 
General Gates, to whom he knew Lafayette had 
written a polite note of congratulation after Sara- 
toga. Lafayette appears to have taken it all at its 
face value until an incriminating letter from Conway 
to Gates fell into hands for which it was never 
intended. Then Lafayette went directly to Wash- 
ington, meaning to unburden his heart, but the 
general was engaged and could not see him. He 
returned to his quarters and wrote him a long letter, 
breathing solicitude in every line. Washington 
answered with his usual calm dignity, but in a way 
to show that the young man's devotion was balm to 
his spirit. 

Conway had played upon Lafayette's homesick- 
ness also. Family news came to him very slowly. 
It was not until Christmas was being celebrated at 
Valley Forge with such sorry festivities as the camp 
could afford that he learned of the birth of his little 
daughter, Anastasie, which had occurred in the 
previous July. All the camp rejoiced with him, but 
the news increased his desire to be with his wife 
and children, if only for a short time. If he had 

92 



A FOOL'S ERRAND 

really contemplated a journey across the sea, how- 
ever, he gave up the idea at once, beHeving that 
loyalty to his friend now made it his duty to ''stand 
by." 

"The bearer of this letter will describe to you the 
attractive surroundings of the place I have chosen to 
stay in rather than to enjoy the happiness of being 
with you," he wrote Adrienne. ''After you know in 
detail all the circumstances of my present position 
. . . you will approve of my course. I almost 
dare to say you will applaud me. . . . Besides the 
reason that I have given you, I have still another 
which I should not mention to everybody, because it 
might appear that I was assuming an air of ridicu- 
lous importance. My presence is more necessary 
to the American cause at this moment than you may 
imagine. Many foreigners who have failed to obtain 
commissions, or whose ambitious schemes after 
having obtained them could not be countenanced, 
have entered into powerful conspiracies; they have 
used every artifice to turn me against this Revolution 
and against him who is its leader; and they have 
taken every opportunity to spread the report that I 
am about to leave the continent. The British have 
openly declared this to be so. I cannot with good 
conscience play into the hands of these people. If 
I were to go, many Frenchmen who are useful here 
would follow my example." 

So he stayed at Valley Forge, which was indeed a 
place of icy torment. The men suffered horribly for 
lack of coats and caps and shoes. Their feet froze 
until they were black. Sometimes they had to be 

93 



THE BOYS* LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

amputated. There was not enough food. Even 
colonels rarely had more than two meals a day, often 
only one, while the rank and file frequently went for 
several days without a distribution of rations. 
Enlistments ceased, and desertion was very easy 
with a wide-open country back of the camp and 
Howe's sleek, well-fed army only two marches away 
down the Lancaster Pike. It was small wonder that 
Washington's numbers dwindled until he could count 
only five or six thousand. Lafayette called the 
endurance of the wretched little army that held on 
''a miracle which every day served to renew." It 
was a miracle explained by the character of the 
Commander-in-chief, and of the remarkable group 
of officers he had gathered around him. As for 
Lafayette, he strove to live as frugally and be as 
self-denying as any of them. More than forty 
years later some of his American friends had proof 
of how well he succeeded; for an old soldier cam.e 
up and reminded him how one snowy night at 
Valley Forge he had taken a gun from a shivering 
sentry and stood guard himself while he sent the 
man to his own quarters for a pair of stockings and 
his only blanket; and when these things were 
brought how he had cut the blanket in two and 
given him half. Though there was cruel suffering 
in that winter camp, there was much of such high- 
spirited gallantry to meet it; and there were also 
pleasant hours, for several of the officers had been 
joined by their wives, who did everything in their 
power to make the dull days brighter. 

Washington's enemies, not yet having exhausted 

94 




WASHIiSfGTON AND THE COMMITTEE OF CONGRESS AT VALLEY FORGE 




VALLEY FORGE — WASHINGTON AND LAFAYETTE 



A FOOL'S ERRAND 

their wiles, hit upon a clever plan to remove Lafay- 
ette from his side. They succeeded in getting Con- 
gress to appoint a new War Board with General 
Gates at its head. This body exercised authority, 
though Washington remained Commander-in-chief. 
Without consulting him, the board decided, or pre- 
tended to decide, to send a winter expedition into 
Canada, with Lafayette at its head and Conway 
second in command. Conway had offered his 
resignation at the time his letter was discovered, 
but it had not been accepted. To emphasize the 
slight put upon Washington, Lafayette's new com- 
mission was inclosed in a letter to the Commander- 
in-chief, with the request that he hand it to the 
younger man. This Washington did with admi- 
rable self-control, saying, as he gave Lafayette the 
paper, *'I would rather they had selected you for 
this than any other man." 

It is not often that such important duty falls to a 
soldier of twenty-one. Naturally enough, he was 
elated, and this duty was particularly tempting 
because it offered him, a Frenchman, the chance to 
go into a French province to reconquer a region 
which had been taken from his own people by Britain 
in the Seven Years' War. But he also was capable 
of exercising self-control, and he answered that he 
could accept it only on the imderstanding that he 
remained subordinate to Washington, as an officer 
of his army detailed for special duty, with the priv- 
ilege of making reports directly to him and of 
sending duplicates to Congress. A committee of 
Congress happened to be visiting Valley Forge that 

95 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

day, and he went impetuously before them and 
declared that Jie would rather serve as a mere aide 
under Washington than accept any separate com- 
mand the War Board could give him. His conditions 
being agreed to, he departed happily enough for 
York, Pennsylvania, where Congress was still holding 
its sittings, in order to receive his instructions. 

There, in General Gates's own house, at another 
dinner memorable in his personal history, he got 
his first intimation of the kind of campaign the 
War Board wished him to carry on. Toast after 
toast was drunk — to the success of the northern 
expedition — to Lafayette and his brilliant prospects 
— and on through a long list, to which he listened in 
growing amazement, for he missed the most impor- 
tant of them all. *' Gentlemen!" he cried, finally, 
springing to his feet, "I propose the health of Gen- 
eral Washington!" and the others drank it in silence. 

He refused to have Conway for his second in com- 
mand, and asked that De Kalb be detailed to accom- 
pany him instead. He proved so intractable, in 
short, that even before he set out for Albany, where 
he was to assume command, the conspirators saw it 
was useless to continue the farce; but they allowed 
him to depart on his cold journey as the easiest way 
of letting the matter end. The four hundred miles 
occupied two weeks by sleigh and horseback, a most 
discouraging sample of what he must expect farther 
north. "Lake Champlain is too cold for producing 
the least bit of laurel," he wrote Washington. 'T 
go very slowly, sometimes drenched by rain, some- 
times covered by snow, and not entertaining many 

96 



A FOOL'S ERRAND 

handsome thoughts about the projected incursion 
into Canada." 

At Albany he found creature comforts, a bed, for 
one thing, with a supply of quilts and blankets that 
made it entirely possible to sleep without lying down 
in his clothes, which was a luxury he had scarcely 
enjoyed since leaving Bethlehem; but of prepara- 
tions for invading Canada he found not one. The 
plans and orders that looked so well on paper, and 
which he had been assured were well under way, had 
not been heard of in Albany, or else had not been 
executed, for the best of reasons; because they 
could not be. General Conway was there ahead of 
him to represent the War Board, and told him 
curtly that the expedition was not to be thought of. 
Astounded, the young general refused to believe 
him imtil interviews with General Schuyler and 
others experienced in northern campaigning con- 
vinced him that this at least was not treachery, but 
cold, hard fact. 

The discovery was a great blow to Lafayette's 
pride. Members of Congress had urged him to 
write about the expedition to his friends in France. 
He was frankly afraid that he would be laughed at 
*'tmless Congress ojffers the means of mending this 
ugly business by some glorious operation." But he 
was in no mood to ask favors of Congress. "For 
you, dear General," he wrote Washington, **I know 
very well that you will do everything to procure me 
the one thing I am ambitious of — ^glory. I think 
your Excellency will approve of my staying on here 
until further orders." 

97 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

March found him still at Albany, awaiting the 
orders which the War Board was in no haste to send, 
having already accomplished its purpose. He tried 
to retrieve something out of the hopeless situation, 
but with fewer men than he had been promised, and 
these clamoring for pay long overdue, he had little 
success. "Everybody is after me for monney," he 
wrote General Gates, "and monney will be spoken of 
by me till I will be enabled to pay our poor soldiers. 
Not only justice and humanity, but even prudence 
obliges us to satisfy them soon.'* As he had already 
done, and would do again, he drew upon his private 
credit to meet the most pressing public needs; but 
he could work against the enemy only in an indirect 
way by sending supplies to Fort Schuyler, where 
they were sorely needed. 

One interesting experience, unusual for a French 
nobleman, came to him during this tedious waiting. 
The Indians on the frontier became restless, and 
General Schuyler called a council of many tribes to 
meet "at Johnson Town" in the Mohawk Valley. 
He invited Lafayette to attend, hoping by his pres- 
ence to reawaken the Indians' old partiaHty for 
the French. Five hundred men, women, and chil- 
dren attended this council, and very picturesque 
they must have looked with their tents and their 
trappings against the snowy winter landscape. The 
warriors were as gorgeous as macaws in their feath- 
ered war-bonnets, nose- jewels, and brilliant paint, 
but Lafayette noted that they talked politics with 
the skill of veterans, as the pipe passed from hand 
to hand. 

98 



A FOOL'S ERRAND 

He appears to have exercised his usual personal 
charm for Americans upon these original children of 
the soil as he had already exercised it upon the whites 
who came to supplant them. But he says of it only 
that they ''showed an equal regard for his words and 
his necklaces." Before the council was over he was 
adopted into one of the tribes, and returned to 
Albany the richer by another name to add to his 
long collection — ^''Kayewla," which had belonged to 
a respected chief of a bygone day. The new Kayewla 
was so well liked that a band of Jroquois followed him 
south and became part of his military division. 

On his return to Albany an unexpected duty 
awaited him. A new form of oath of office, forever 
forswearing allegiance to George III and acknowledg- 
ing the sovereignty and independence of the United 
States, had come, with the order that all must sub- 
scribe to it. So, to use the picturesque phrase of 
the Middle Ages, it was ''between" his French hands 
that the officers of the northern military department 
sv/ore fealty to the new United States of America. 

As spring advanced the influence of Gates and 
Conway waned and Washington regained his old 
place in public esteem. Conway himself left the 
country. Lafayette and De Kalb were ordered 
back to the main army; and in doing this Congress 
took pains to express by resolution its belief that the 
young general was in no way to blame for the failure 
of the winter expedition to Canada. When he 
reached Washington's headquarters in April he 
found Valley Forge much less melancholy than 
when he left it; a change due not only to the m^ore 

99 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

cheerful season of the year, but to wonders in the 
way of improved discipline that General von Steuben 
had brought about in a few short weeks. This 
ofQcer of much experience had been trained under 
Frederick the Great, and, having served as his aide, 
was equipped in fullest measure with the knowledge 
and skill in military routine that Washington's 
volunteers so lacked. When he took up his duties 
he found a confusion almost unbelievable to one of 
his orderly military mind. Military terms meant 
nothing. A regiment might contain only thirty 
men, or it might be larger than another officer's 
brigade. It might be formed of three platoons or of 
twenty-one. There was one company that con- 
sisted of only a single corporal. Each colonel drilled 
his men after a system of his own; and the arms in 
the hands of these go-as-you-please soldiers ''were 
in a horrible condition — covered with rust, half of 
them without bayonets," while there were many 
from which not a single shot could be fired. Yet 
this was the main army of the revolutionists who 
had set out to oppose England! Fortunately Baron 
von Steuben was no mere drillmaster. He had the 
invaluable gift of inspiring confidence and imparting 
knowledge. Between March, when he began his 
''intensive" training, and the opening of the summer 
campaign, he made of that band of lean and tattered 
patriots a real army, though it still lacked much of 
having a holiday appearance. The men's coats gave 
no indication of their rank, or indeed that they were 
in the army at all. They were of many colors, in- 
cluding red, and it was not impossible to see an 

lOO 



A FOOL'S ERRAND 

officer mounting guard at grand parade clad "in a 
sort of dressing-gown made of an old blanket or 
woolen bedcover." But the man inside the coat 
was competent for his job. 

It was a compatriot of Lafayette's, the French 
Minister of War, St. -Germain, who had persuaded 
General Steuben to go to America; so to France is 
due part of our gratitude for the services of this 
efficient German. Perhaps, going back farther, the 
real person we should thank is General Burgoyne, 
since it was his surrender which undoubtedly quick- 
ened the interest of the French in the efficiency of 
our ragamuffin army. French official machinery, 
which had been strangely clogged before, began to 
revolve when news of Burgoyne's surrender reached 
Paris early in December, 1777. The king, who had 
not found it convenient to receive the American 
commissioners up to that time, sent them word that 
he had been friendly all along; and as soon as 
diplomatic formality permitted, a treaty of amity 
and commerce was signed between France and 
America. That meant that France was now formally 
an ally, and that the United States might count 
upon her influence and even upon her military help. 
It was a great point gained, but Franklin refused to 
allow his old eyes to be dazzled by mere glitter when 
he **and all the Americans in Paris" were received 
by the king and queen at Versailles in honor of the 
event. He was less impressed by the splendor of the 
palace than by the fact that it wotdd be the better 
for a thorough cleaning. After the royal audience 
was over he and the other commissioners hastened 
8 loi 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

to pay a visit of ceremony to young Madame Lafay- 
ette in order to testify to the part her husband had 
played in bringing about this happy occurrence. 

When news of the signing of this treaty reached 
America about the ist of May, 1778, Lafayette em- 
braced his grave general in the exuberance of his 
joy, and even kissed him in French fashion. There 
was an official celebration in camp on the 7th of May, 
with much burning of gunpowder, reviewing of 
troops, ** suitable" discoursing by chaplains, and 
many hearty cheers. Washington's orders pre- 
scribed in great detail just when and how each part 
of the celebration was to be carried out, and this 
is probably the only time in history that an 
American army en masse was ordered to cry, **Long 
live the king of France!" 

Lafayette, with a white sash across his breast, 
commanded the left; but it was a heavy heart that 
he carried under his badge that gala-day. Letters 
which came to him immediately after news of the 
treaty had brought sad tidings. He learned of the 
death of a favorite nephew, loved by him like a son, 
and also that his oldest child, the little Henriette, to 
whom he had been sending messages in every letter, 
had died in the previous October. "My heart is full 
of my own grief, and of yours which I was not with 
you to share," he wrote Adrienne. **The distance 
from Europe to America never seemed so immense to 
me as it does now. . . . The news came to me imme- 
diately after that of the treaty, and while bowed 
down with grief I had to receive congratulations and 
take part in the public rejoicing." Had the letters 

102 



A FOOL'S ERRAND 

come through without delay they would have ar- 
rived at the beginning of winter, at the moment 
when General Conway was fanning the flame of his 
homesickness. The desire to comfort his wife 
might have turned the scale and sent Lafayette 
across the sea instead of to Albany. Now, though 
he longed to go to her, he felt bound to remain for 
the campaign which was about to open. 



r^ 



XII 

FARCE AND TREACHERY 

MUCH as the French treaty had done for the 
Americans, it had by no means ended the war. 
There were as many British soldiers as ever on 
American soil, and General Howe at Philadelphia 
and General CHnton at New York could be trusted 
to make excellent use of them. Signs of British 
activity were already apparent. A large number 
of transports had sailed from Philadelphia, but 
whether they had gone to bring reinforcements or 
whether it meant that Philadelphia was being 
abandoned and that the Hudson was again to be the 
main point of attack Washington did not know. 
Lafayette was ordered to take some of the best 
troops at Valley Forge and find out. 

He left camp on the i8th of May with about 
twenty-two hundred men, among them six hundred 
Pennsylvania militia and half a hundred Iroquois 
Indians. Crossing the Schuylkill, he established him- 
self on high ground between that river and the 
Delaware, twelve miles from the city, at a hamlet 
called Barren Hill, whose chief ornament was a 
church with a graveyard. It was an excellent spot 

104 



FARCE AND TREACHERY 

for purposes of observation ; for roads ran in various 
directions, while the abrupt fall of the land toward 
the Schuyllcill protected his right, and there were 
substantial stone buildings in a wood in front which 
could be used as forts in case of need. He guarded 
against surprise on his left, the direction from which 
any considerable body of British was likely to ap- 
proach, by placing there his large detachment of 
Pennsylvania militia. He planted his five cannon 
in good positions, sent out his Indian scouts, who 
wormed themselves several miles nearer the city, had 
interviews with promising individuals who were to 
act as spies, and was well pleased with himself. 

The British were also exceedingly well pleased 
when their spies brought in full information of 
Lafayette's position and numbers. They saw that 
he had separated himself from the Ajnerican army 
and virtually placed himself in their hands; and 
short of Washington himself there was no officer 
they would so enjoy capturing. His prominence at 
home and his popularity in America made him a 
shining mark; moreover, he had fooled them in 
London before coming to America. It would be a 
great satisfaction to take him prisoner gently, with- 
out hurting him, treat him with mock courtesy, and 
send him back to England, a laughing-stock. 

They had force enough to make his capture prac- 
tically certain, and set out in great glee, so sure of 
the result that before leaving town Generals Howe 
and Clinton, both of whom were in Philadelphia, 
sent out invitations to a reception for the following 
day **tQ meet the Marquis de Lafayette." Although 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

it was looked upon as something of a lark, the ex- 
pedition was deemed sufficiently important for 
General Clinton to lead it in person, while General 
Howe accompanied him, and the admiral, General 
Howe's sailor brother, went along as a volunteer. 
Taking four men to Lafayette's one, and marching 
by night, they approached Barren Hill in a way to 
cut off the fords across the Schuylkill and also to 
intercept any assistance which might be sent from 
Valley Forge. 

Unconscious that he was in danger, Lafayette was 
talking, early on the morning of May 20th, with a 
young woman who was going into the city as a spy, 
when word was brought him that dragoons in red 
coats had been seen on the Whitemarsh road. 
This did not disturb him, for he knew that among 
the coats of many colors worn by his Pennsylvania 
militia some were red; but he sent out to verify the 
information, merely as a matter of routine. Soon 
the truth was learned — ^and exaggerated — and his 
men set up a cry that they were surrounded by the 
British. 

Fortunately Lafayette had a head which grew 
steadier in a crisis. Sending his aides flying in all 
directions, he found that while the way to Valley 
Forge was indeed cut off, one ford still remained 
open, though the British were rapidly advancing 
upon it. He quickly placed a small number of his 
men near the church, where the stone wall of the 
graveyard would serve as breastworks, stationed a 
few more near the woods as if they were heads of 
columns just appearing, and ordered all the rest to 

106 



FARCE AND TREACHERY 

drop quietly down the steep side of the hill until 
they were out of sight, and then hurry to the ford. 
The attention of the enemy was held long enough 
by the decoy troops to enable the others to reach the 
ford or swim across, their heads dotting the water 
*'like the corks of a floating seine," and Lafayette, 
who had stayed behind, brought the last of his men 
to safety just as two columns of the British, marching 
up two sides of Barren Hill, met each other, face to 
face, at the top. Lafayette, on the opposite bank of 
the river, prepared for defense, but the British were 
too disgusted to follow. 

The real encounter of the serio-comic affair took 
place between the most gaudily dressed bands of 
lighters in the whole Revolution, Lafayette's Iro- 
quois in their war regalia and Clinton's advance- 
guard of Hessian cavalry. As the latter advanced, 
the Indians rose from their hiding-places uttering 
their piercing war-whoops. The horses of the troop- 
ers were terrified by the brilliant, shrieking creatures, 
and bolted. But terror was not all upon one side. 
The Indians had never seen men like these Hessians, 
with their huge bearskin shakos and fierce dyed 
mustaches. They in their turn were seized with 
panic and rushed away, fleeing incontinently from 
**bad medicine." 

Absurd as the affair proved, with little harm done 
to anything except the feelings of the British, its 
consequences might easily have been serious, both 
to the Revolution and to Lafayette. The loss of 
two thousand of his best men would have dangerously 
crippled Washington's little army; while the capture 

107 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

of Lafayette, on the very first occasion he was in- 
trusted with, a command of any size, must almost of 
necessity have ended his military usefulness for- 
ever. As it was, Barren Hill demonstrated that he 
was quick and resourceful in time of danger; and 
these were very valuable qualities in a war like the 
American Revolution, which was won largely through 
the skill of its generals in losing battles. To realize 
the truth of this and how well it was carried out, 
we have only to recall Washington's masterly work 
in the winter campaign in New Jersey, when he ma- 
neuvered and marched and gave way until the right 
moment came to stand; how General Schuyler lured 
Burgoyne to disaster; and how, in a later campaign 
in the South, General Greene was said to have "re- 
duced the art of losing battles to a science." Years 
afterward, in talking with Napoleon, Lafayette 
called our Revolution "the gi-andest of contests, 
won by the skirmishes of sentinels and outposts." 

About a month after this affair at Barren Hill the 
English evacuated Philadelphia and moved slowly 
northward with a force of seventeen thousand men 
and a baggage-train nearly twelve miles long. The 
length of this train indicated that it was moving- 
day for the British army, which wanted to be nearer 
the Hudson, but certain other indications pointed 
to the opening of an active campaign in New Jersey. 
A majority of the American officers, including Gen. 
Charles Lee, v/ho was second in command, argued 
against an attack because both in numbers and or- 
ganization the British force was superior to their 
own. General Lee went so far as to say that, in- 

io8 



FARCE AND TREACHERY 

stead of trying to interfere with General Clinton* s 
retreat, it ought to be aided in every possible way, 
''even with a bridge of gold.'* Subsequent develop- 
ments proved that it was not fear of a British victory, 
but sympathy with British plans, which prompted 
this view. Several other officers, however, Wash- 
ington himself, Gen. Anthony Wayne, who was 
always ready to fight. General Greene, General 
Cadwallader, and Lafayette, were in favor of fol- 
lowing and attacking at the earliest opportunity. 
It was this course that Washington chose, in spite 
of the majority of votes against it. It seemed to 
him that the difficulty Clinton must experience in 
maneuvering his army over the roads of that region, 
and the fact that almost half of his force would need 
to be employed in guarding the unwieldy baggage- 
train, justified the expectation of success. His plan 
was to throw out a strong detachment ahead of the 
main army to harass the British flanks and rear and 
to follow this up so closely that the main army 
would be ready to go to its support in case CHnton 
turned to fight. 

The command of the advanced detachment was 
the post of honor, and to this Lee was entitled be- 
cause of his rank. He refused it and Washington 
offered it to Lafayette, who accepted joyously. He 
had already begun his march when Lee recon- 
sidered and sent Washington word that he desired 
the command, after all, appealing at the same time 
to Lafayette with the words, **I place my fortune 
and my honor in your hands; you are too generous 
to destroy both the one and the other." Lee was 

109 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

one of the few men Lafayette did not like, though he 
had no suspicion of his loyalty. He thought him 
ugly in face and in spirit, full of avarice and ambi- 
tion. But Lee was his superior officer, and Lafay- 
ette was a soldier as well as a gentleman. He 
relinquished the command at once and offered to 
serve under Lee as a volunteer. 

It would have been better had he found it in his 
heart and in the military regulations to refuse, for 
on that sultry unhappy 28th of June when the two 
armies met and the battle of Monmouth Court 
House was fought. General Lee's indecision and con- 
fusion of orders, to give his conduct no harsher 
name, turned the advance of the Americans, who 
were in the best of spirits and eager to fight, into 
what their generals admitted was **a disgraceful 
rout." Officer after officer came to Lee beseeching 
him to let them carry out their original instructions 
and not to give orders to fall back; but he did every- 
thing to hinder success, answering stubbornly, 'T 
know my business." 

At Lafayette's first intimation that things were 
going wrong, he sent a message to Washington, who 
was with the main army, some miles in the rear. 
Whether he learned the news first from this mes- 
senger or from a very scared fifer running down the 
road, Washington could not believe his eyes or his 
ears. Hurrying forward, he found Lee in the midst 
of the retreating troops and a brief but terrible 
scene took place between them; Washington in a 
white heat of anger, though outwardly calm, Lee 
stammering and stuttering and finally bursting out 

no 



W I 




FARCE AND TREACHERY 

with the statement that the whole movement had 
been made contrary to his advice. Washington's 
short and scorching answer ended Lee's military 
career. Then, turning away from him as though 
from a creature unworthy of further notice, the 
Commander-in-chief took up the serious task at 
hand. The soldiers responded to his presence 
instantly. With those on the field he and Lafayette 
were able to make a stand until reserves came up 
and a drawn battle was fought which lasted until 
nightfall. The conditions had been unusually try- 
ing, for the heat was so oppressive that men died of 
that alone, without receiving a wound. Both 
armies camped upon the field, Washington meaning 
to renew the contest next morning; but during the 
night the enemy retired to continue the march 
toward New York. 

Lee was tried by court martial and suspended 
from any command in the armies of the United 
States for the period of one year. Afterward Con- 
gress dismissed him altogether. The judgment of 
history is that he deserved severer punishment and 
that his sympathies were undoubtedly with the 
British. He was of English birth, and from the 
beginning of his service in the American army he 
tried to thwart Washington. Lafayette was con- 
vinced that, though his name does not appear 
prominently in the doings of the Conway cabal, it 
was he and not General Gates who would have 
profited by the success of that plot. 

Since the British were able to continue their march 
as planned, they claimed Monmouth as a victory. 

Ill 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Washington also continued northward and, crossing 
the Hudson, established himself near White Plains, 
which brought the British and American forces once 
more into the relative positions they had occupied 
two years earlier, after the battle of Long Island. 

Monmouth proved to be the last engagement of 
consequence fought that year, and the last large 
battle of the Revolution to be fought in the Northern 
states. Very soon after this the British gave up 
their attempt to cut the rebellion in two by opening 
the Hudson, and substituted for it the plan of cap- 
turing the Southern states one by one, beginning 
with Georgia and working northward. They con- 
tinued to keep a large force near New York, how- 
ever, and that necessitated having an American army 
close by. These two forces were not idle; some 
of the most dramatic incidents of the whole war 
occurred here, though the main contest raged else- 
where, and in a larger sense, these armies were only 
marking time. 



XIII 

A LIAISON OFFICER 

IAFAYETTE'S influence and duties took on a 
^ new character about the middle of July, 1778, 
when a fleet of twenty-six French frigates and ships 
of the line arrived, commanded by Admiral d'Estaing. 
These ships had sailed in such secrecy that even 
their captains did not know whither they were 
bound until they had been at sea some days. Then, 
while a solemn Mass was being sung aboard the 
flagship, the signal was hoisted to break the seals 
upon their orders. When the full meaning of these 
orders dawned upon the sailors and the thousand 
soldiers who accompanied the expedition shouts of 
joy and cries of '^Vive le Roil'* spread from ship to 
ship. But it was an expedition fated to ill luck. 
Storms and contrary winds delayed them five weeks 
in the Mediterranean, and seven more in crossing 
the Atlantic. Food and water were almost gone 
when they reached Delaware Bay, where the disap- 
pointing news awaited their commander that the 
British, fearing his blockade, had withdrawn to New 
York, taking the available food-supplies of the 
neighborhood with them. That was the explana- 

113 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

tion of Clinton's long wagon-train. He left little 
behind for hungry sailors. 

D'Estaing landed Silas Deane, and the first minister 
sent from France to the United States, who had come 
over with; him sent messages announcing his arrival 
to Congress and to Washington, and proceeded up 
the coast. For eleven days he remained outside the 
bar at Sandy Hook in a position bad for his ships 
and worse for his temper; for inside the bar he could 
see many masts flying the British flag. But pilots 
were hard to find, most of them being in the service 
of his enemies; and without pilots he could not 
enter. When at last they were obtained it was only 
to tell him that the largest of his vessels drew too 
much water to enter without removing part of their 
guns, and this he could not afford to do with English 
ships lying inside. D'Estaing would not beHeve it 
until he himself had made soundings. * Tt is terrible 
to be within sight of your object and yet unable to 
attain it," he wrote. To add to his unhappiness he 
heard that an English fleet under Admiral Byron 
had sailed for American waters, and he knew that 
its arrival would raise the number of British ships and 
guns to a figure far exceeding his own. He put to 
sea again, his destination this time being Newport, 
where the British had a few ships and about six 
thousand men. Washington had suggested a com- 
bined attack here in case it was found impossible 
to accomplish anything at New York. 
' Admiral d'Estaing came from Auvergne, as did 
Lafayette. Indeed, their families were related by 
marriage, and to his first official commimication 

114 



A LIAISON OFFICER 

Lafayette had added, at Washington's request, a 
long postscript giving personal and family details 
that the British could not possibly know, doing this 
to prove to the admiral that the proposed plans 
were genuine and not an invention of the enemy. 
The correspondence thus begun had continued with 
pleasure on both sides, and, after the fleet reached 
Newport, Lafayette spent a happy day on the flag- 
ship as the admiral's honored guest, though he was 
technically still a deserter, subject to arrest and 
deportation. 

The American part of the combined attack on 
Newport was to be made by a detachment of Wash- 
ington's army co-operating with state troops and 
militia raised by General Sullivan, near by. The 
command of the Continentals was offered to Lafay- 
ette, who wrote to D'Estaing in boyish glee: ** Never 
have I realized the charm of my profession, M. le 
Comte, as I do now that I am to be allowed to prac- 
tise it in company with Frenchmen. I have never 
wished so much for the ability that I have not, or 
for the experience that I shall obtain in the next 
twenty years if God spares my life and allows us to 
have war. No doubt it is amusing to you to see me 
presented as a general officer; I confess that I am 
forced myself to smile sometimes at the idea, even in 
this country where people do not smile so readily as 
we do at home." 

Although scurvy had broken out with considerable 
violence on his ships, the French admiral held him- 
self ready to carry out his part of a speedy attack. 
It was General Sullivan who had to ask a delay be- 

115 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

cause so few of the militia responded to his summons. 
While expressing polite disappointment that so 
large a part of the American army was "still at 
home," D'Estaing tried to emphasize the need of 
haste. He believed in striking sudden, unexpected 
blows; and he had ever in mind the approach of that 
fleet of Admiral Byron's. Nine precious days passed, 
which the British commander at Newport utilized in 
preparing for defense and in sending messengers to 
New York. 

Meanwhile Lafayette returned to camp and 
started with his detachment for Newport. On the 
march he received a letter from Washington which 
must have caused him keen disappointment, since it 
took away half his authority. General Greene was 
a native of Rhode Island, with special knowledge of 
the region where the fighting was to take place, and 
because of this it had been decided at the last mo- 
ment to combine the Continental troops with the 
militia and to give General Greene joint command 
with Lafayette. The young man's answer was a 
model of cheerful acquiescence. **Dear General: 
I have received your Excellency's favor by General 
Greene, and have been much pleased with the ar- 
rival of a gentleman who, not only on account of his 
merit and the justness of his views, but also by his 
knowledge of the country and his popularity in this 
state, may be very serviceable to the expedition. 
I willingly part with half of my detachment, though 
I had a great dependence upon them, as you find it 
convenient for the good of the service. Anything, 
my dear General, you will order, or even wish, shall 

ii6 



A LIAISON OFFICER 

always be infinitely agreeable to me; and I will 
always feel happy in doing anything which may 
please you or forward the public good. I am of the 
same opinion as your Excellency that dividing our 
Continental troops among the mihtia will have a 
better effect than if we were to keep them together 
in one wing." Only a single sentence, near the end, 
in which he referred to himself as being with the 
expedition as **a man of war of the third class" 
betrayed his regret. Washington appears to have 
been much pleased and reHeved by this reply, for he 
realized that he was drawing heavily upon Laf ayette*s 
store of patience. 

As it turned out, neither Greene nor Lafayette had 
authority enough to quarrel over or any glory in the 
enterprise, for on the loth of August, at the moment 
when the combined attack was about to begin, the 
relief expedition of Admiral Howe's ships loomed sud- 
denly out of the fog. The French vessels had been 
placed only with a view to an attack upon land, and 
most of the sailors had been disembarked to take part 
in it. D'Estaing had to get them hurriedly back 
again and to prepare for a sea-fight. Before this 
was over a wind-storm of great fury arose. It 
separated the combatants, but left D'Estaing so 
crippled that he was obliged to put into Boston for 
repairs. 

Some of these events were of a character no human 
foresight could prevent. All of them held possi- 
bilities of misunderstanding, and these misunder- 
standings were increased tenfold by differences in 
nationality, in temper, and in language. Some of 
9 117 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

the French thought General Sullivan deliberately 
and jealously tried to block success. He reproached 
the French admiral for going to Boston after the 
storm instead of returning to his aid. Lafayette's 
very eagerness subjected him to criticism, yet he 
was the one man involved who understood the 
temperament of both the French and the Americans. 
The burden of explaining, of soothing, of trying to 
arrange the thousand prickly details of the situation 
fell upon him. Twice he rode to Boston and back 
for conferences with D'Estaing, making the journey 
of seventy miles once by night in six and a half 
hours— unexampled speed for those days. Such 
work now would be called the work of a liaison officer. 
He had need of all his tact, and even his sweet temper 
grew acid under the strain. He was strongly moved 
to fight a duel with General Sullivan; and both 
Washington and Congress had to /intervene before 
the French admiral was completely assured of 
America's belief in his "zeal and attachment," and 
before Lafayette could be thoroughly appeased. 

Fond as he was of America, Lafayette was a 
Frenchman first of all. He had assured D'Estaing 
that he would rather fight as a common soldier 
under the French flag than as a general officer any- 
where else. The coming of the French fleet had 
been to all intents a declaration of war by his coun- 
try against England ; and when the autumn was far 
enough advanced to make it certain there would be 
no more military activity in America before the 
next spring, he asked permission to return to France 
and offer his sword to his king. 

ii8 



A LIAISON OFFICER 

Washington, who had more sympathy with the 
impulses of youth than we are apt to give him credit 
for, saw that after the trying experiences of the past 
few weeks a leave of absence would be the best thing 
for Lafayette and also for his American friends. 
The young man's nerves were completely on edge. 
He had not only wanted to fight General Sullivan 
and controlled the desire; he had actually sent a 
challenge, against the advice of Washington and 
Admiral d'Estaing, to the Earl of Carlisle, an Eng- 
lishman in America on official business, because of 
some words the latter had used which Lafayette re- 
garded as an insult to the French. Besides these 
grievances, his imagination was working overtime on 
a grand new scheme for the conquest of Canada 
which Washington could no more indorse than he 
could approve the desire to shed blood in private 
quarrels. The young man's friendship was too valu- 
able to make it politic continually to thwart him. 
Undoubtedly this was a case where absence would 
make the heart grow fonder. Very possibly also 
the wise general foresaw how much good Lafayette 
might do in Paris as an advocate of American 
interests during the next few months. 

Lafayette did not wish to sever his relations with 
the Continental army. AH he asked was a leave of 
absence, and this Congress readily granted in a set 
of complimentary resolutions, adding for good meas- 
ure a letter *'To our great, faithful, and beloved 
friend and ally, Louis the Sixteenth, King of France 
,and Navarre," telling what a very wise and gallant 
and patient and excellent young man he was. But 

119 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

it was weeks after this permission was given before 
Lafayette left America. Congress arranged, as a 
compliment, that he should sail from Boston on the 
frigate Alliance, one of the best of the nation's war- 
vessels. Lafayette made his visits of ceremony, 
wrote his notes of farewell, and set out from Phila- 
delphia in a cold rain one day late in October. 
Ordinarily he would not have minded such a storm. 
He had endured the life at Valley Forge and discom- 
forts of the winter trip to Canada with apparent 
ease; but to a year of such campaigning had been 
added several months of work and worry in con- 
nection with the French fleet. The two together 
had told upon his strength, and the storm added the 
finishing touch. He became really ill, but, suffering 
with fever, rode on, unwilling to delay his journey 
for mere weather, and unwilling, too, to fail in 
cotu-tesy to the inhabitants of the many towns on 
his way who wished to do him honor. He fortified 
himself for the receptions and functions they had 
planned by frequent draughts of tea and spirits, 
which made his condition worse instead of better. 
By the time he reached Fishkill, New York, he was 
unable to proceed farther. His fever raged for 
three weeks, and the news spread that he would not 
recover. The concern manifested showed what a 
firm hold he had made for himself in American affec- 
tion. Civilians spoke of him lovingly and sorrow- 
fully as ''the Marquis," while in the army, where 
he was known as **the soldier's friend," grief was 
even more sincere. Washington sent Surgeon-Gen- 
eral Cochran, who had cared for him in Bethlehem, 

I20 



A LIAISON OFFICER 

to take charge of tne case, and rode himself almost 
daily the eight miles from headquarters to make 
inquiries, never entering the sick-room, and often 
turning away with tears in his eyes at the report 
given him. Lafayette, racked with fever and head- 
ache, was sure he would never live to reach France 
again. The idea of leaving the world at the early 
age of twenty-one did not trouble him; he felt that 
he would gladly compromise on three more months 
of life, provided he could see his family and be 
assured of the happy outcome of the American war. 
After the fever left him and he slowly regained his 
strength he spent a few happy days as Washington's 
guest before proceeding on his journey to Boston. 
The elder man's farewell was "very tender, very 
sad," and Lafayette rode away in company with the 
good Doctor Cochran, who had orders to watch him 
like a hawk until he was safely on the ship. After 
^this parting the young man was more than ever 
, convinced that Washington was a great man and 
his own very warm personal friend. He wondered 
how anybody could accuse him of being cold and 
unsympathetic. 



XIV 

NEAR-MUTINY AND NEAR-IMPRISONMENT 

WHEN he reached Boston the crew of the Al- 
liance had not been fully made up. The 
authorities offered to impress enough men to com- 
plete it, but Lafayette objected on principle to that 
way of obtaining sailors. They were finally secured 
by enlistment, but many of them were questionable 
characters, either English deserters or English pris- 
oners of war. With such a crew the Alliance put to 
sea on the nth of January, 1779, upon a voyage 
short for that time of year, but as tumultuous as it 
was brief. Excitement and discomfort began with 
a tempest off the Banks of Newfoundland which the 
frigate weathered with difficulty. Lafayette, who 
was always a poor sailor, longed for calm, even if it 
had to be found at the bottom of the sea; but that 
was only the beginning, the real excitement occurring 
about two hundred leagues off the French coast. 

Lafayette's own account explains that **by a 
rather immoral proclamation his Britannic Majesty 
encouraged revolt among crews," offering them the 
money value of ships captured and brought into 
English ports as "rebel" vessels — ''a result which 

122 



NEAR-MUTINY AND NEAR-IMPRISONMENT 

could only be obtained by the massacre of officers 
and those who objected." A plot of this nature was 
entered into by the Enghsh deserters and prisoners 
among the sailors on the Alliance. A cry of **A 
sail!" was to bring officers and passengers hurrying 
upon deck and shots from four cannon, carefully 
trained and loaded beforehand, were to blow them 
to bits. The time was fixed for four o'clock in the 
morning, but, fortunately, it was postponed until the 
same time in the afternoon, and in the interval the 
plot was disclosed to an American sailor who was 
mistaken by the conspirators for an Irishman on ac- 
count of the fine brogue he had acquired through 
much sailing "in those latitudes." They offered 
him command of the frigate. He pretended to 
accept, but was able to warn the captain and Lafay- 
ette only one short hour before the time fixed for the 
deed. That was quite enough, however. The 
officers and passengers appeared upon deck ahead 
of time, sword in hand, and gathering the loyal 
sailors about them, called up the rest one by one. 
Thirty-three were put in irons. Evidence pointed to 
an even greater number of guilty men, but it was 
taken for granted that the rest might be relied upon, 
though only the Americans and French were really 
trusted. A week later the Alliance sailed happily^l 
into Brest floating the new American flag. 

The last word Lafayette had received from his 
family was already eight months old. He hurried 
toward Paris, but the news of his arrival traveled 
faster, and he foimd the city on tiptoe to see him. 
*'0n my arrival," says the Memoirs, 'T had the honor 

123 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

to be consulted by all the Ministers and, what was 
much better, embraced by all the ladies. The em- 
braces ceased next day, but I enjoyed for a longer 
time the confidence of the Cabinet and favor at Ver- 
sailles, and also celebrity in Paris." His father-in- 
law, who had been so very bitter at his departure, 
received him amiably, a friendliness which touched 
Lafayette. "I was well spoken of in all circles, even 
after the favor of the queen had secured for me com- 
mand of the regiment of the King's Dragoons.** 
This was no other than the old De Noailles Cavalry 
in which he had served as a boy. 

Merely as a matter of form, however, he had to 
submit to a week's imprisonment because he had 
left the country against the wishes of the king. 
Instead of being shut in the Bastille, his prison was 
the beautiful home of his father-in-law, where 
Adrienne and the baby awaited him; and during 
that week its rooms were fiUed with distinguished 
visitors, come ostensibly to see the Due d'Ayen. 
But even this delightful travesty of imprisonment 
did not begin umtil the prodigal had gone to Ver- 
sailles for his first interview with the king's chief 
advisers. After a few days he wrote to Louis XVI, 
"acknowledging ray happy fault." The king simi- 
moned him to his presence to receive "a gentle 
reprimand" which ended in smiles and compliments, 
and he was restored to liberty with the hint that it 
would be well for a time to avoid crowded places 
where the common people of Paris, who so dearly 
loved a hero, "might consecrate his disobedience.** 

For the next few months he led a busy life, a 
124 



NEAR-MUTINY AND NEAR-IMPRISONMENT 

favorite in society, an unofficial adviser of the 
government, called here and there to give first-hand 
testimony about men and motives in far-off America, 
making up lost months in as many short minutes 
with Adrienne, winning the heart of his new little 
daughter, assuming command of his "crack" regi- 
ment, so different in appearance from the ragged 
ranks he had commanded under Washington; and 
last, but by no means least in his own estimation, 
laying plans to accomplish by one bold stroke two 
military purposes dear to his heart — ^discomfiting the 
EngKsh and securing money for the American cause. 

He had seen such great results undertaken and 
accomplished in America with the slenderest means 
that the recklessness with which Etu-opeans spent 
money for mere show seemed to him almost wicked. 
He used to tell himself that the cost of a single f^te 
would equip an army in the United States. M. de 
Maurepas had once said that he was capable of 
stripping Versailles for the sake of his beloved 
Americans. It was much more in accordance with 
his will to seize the supplies for America from Eng- 
land herself. He planned a descent upon the 
English coast by two or three frigates under John 
Paul Jones and a land force of fifteen hundred men 
commanded by himself, to sail under the American 
flag, fall upon rich towns like Bristol and Liverpool, 
and levy tribute. 

Lafayette's brain worked in two distinct ways. 
His tropic imagination stopped at nothing, and 
completely ran away with his common sense when 
once it got going, as, for instance, while he lay 

125 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

recovering from his wound at Bethlehem. Very 
different from this was the clever, quick wit with 
which he could take advantage of momentary chances 
in battle, as he had demonstrated when he and his 
little force dropped between the jaws of the trap 
closing upon them at Barren Hill. Fortunately in 
moments of danger it was usually his wit, not his 
imagination, that acted, and he took excellent care 
of the men under him; but when he had nothing in 
the way of hard facts to pin his mind to earth, and 
gave free rein to his desires, he was not practical. 
In this season of wild planning he not only invented 
the scheme for a bucaneering expedition in company 
with John Paul Jones; he mapped out an uprising 
in Ireland, but decided that the time was not yet 
ripe for that. 

While his plan for a descent upon the English 
coast came to nothing, it may be said to have led 
to much, for it interested the Ministry, and was 
abandoned only in favor of a more ambitious scheme 
of attacking England with the help of Spain. That, 
too, passed after it was found that England was on 
the alert; but it had given Lafayette his oppor- 
tunity to talk about America in and out of season, 
and to urge the necessity for helping the United 
States win independence as a means of crippling 
England, if not for her own sake. As the most 
popular social lion of the moment his words carried 
far, and as the most earnest advocate of America in 
France he was indeed what he called himself, the 
link that bound the two countries together. The 
outcome was that after the collapse of the project 

126 



NEAR-MUTINY AND NEAR-IMPRISONMENT 

for an expedition against England nobody could see 
a better way of troubling his Britannic Majesty 
than by following Lafayette's advice; whereupon he 
redoubled his efforts and arguments. 

Indeed, he exceeded the wishes of the Americans 
themselves. He wanted to send ships and soldiers 
as well as money and supplies, but with the fiasco 
of the attack upon Newport fresh in their minds Con- 
gress and our country were chary of asking for more 
help of that kind. He assured M. de Vergennes 
that it was characteristic of Americans to believe 
that in three months they would no longer need help^ 
of any kind. He wrote to Washington that he was! 
insisting upon money with such stress that the' 
Director of Finances looked upon him as a fiend; 
but he argued also in France that the Americans 
would be glad enough to see a French army by the 
time it got there. 

A plan drawn up by him at the request of M. de 
Vergennes has been called the starting-point of the 
events that led to the surrender of Comwallis, be- 
cause without French help that event could not 
have occurred. In this view of the case, the work 
he did in Paris and at Versailles was his greatest 
contribution to the cause of American independence. 
Another general might easily have done all that he 
did in the way of winning battles on American soil, 
but no other man in France had his enthusiasm and 
his knowledge, or the persistence to fill men's ears 
and minds and hearts with thoughts of America as 
he did. 

After it had been decided to send over another 

127 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

military force it was natural for him to hope that he 
might be given command of it, though nobody knew 
better than he that his rank did not entitle him to 
the honor since he was only a colonel in France, 
even if he did hold the commission of a major- 
general in the United States. Having become by 
this time really intimate with M. de Vergennes, he 
gave another proof of the sweet reasonableness of 
his disposition by frankly presenting the whole 
matter in writing to him. He worked out in detail 
two *' suppositions,'* the first assuming that he was to 
be given command of the expedition, the second that 
he was not, stating in each case what he thought 
ought to be done. Quite frankly he announced his 
preference for the first supposition, but quite simply 
and unmistakably he made it plain that he would 
work just as earnestly for the success of the under- 
taking in one case as in the other. 

It was the second of these plans that the Ministry 
preferred and adopted practically as he prepared it. 
After this had been decided he found himself, early 
one spring day in 1780, standing before Louis XVI, 
in his American imiform, taking his leave. He was 
to go ahead of the expedition and announce its 
coming; to work up a welcome for it, if he found 
lingering traces of distrust ; and to resume command 
of his American division and do all he could to secure 
effective co-operation; in short, to take up his work 
of liaison officer again on a scale greater than before. 



XV 

HELP — ^AND DISAPPOINTMENT 

WHEN Lafayette sailed westward this time he 
owned two valued possessions, partly French, 
partly American, which had not been his when he 
landed at Brest. One was a sword, the gift Congress 
directed Franklin to have made by the best workmen 
in Paris and presented to him in recognition of his 
services. It was a wonderful sword, with his motto 
*'Cur nonV and no end of compliments worked into 
the decorations of its gold-mounted hilt and scab- 
bard. The other possession was a brand-new baby. 
"Our next one absolutely must be a boy!" Lafayette 
had written Adrienne when assuring her of his joy 
over the birth of Anastasie; and obligingly the next 
one came a boy, bom on Christmas Eve, 1779. He 
had been immediately christened, as was the custom, 
but he was given a name that no man of the house 
of Motier had borne in all the seven hundred years 
of the family's consequential existence. Even the 
young mother's tongue may have tripped a bit as 
she whispered "George Washington" to the baby 
cuddled against her breast. But no other name was 
possible for that child, and the day came, before he 

129 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

was grown, when it served as a talisman to carry 
him out of danger. 

Sailing westward on the Hermione, the father of 
this Franco-American baby reached Boston late in 
April after an imeventful voyage, to receive the 
heartiest welcome the staid old town could give him. 
The docks were black with people and the streets 
lined with hurrahing crowds as he rode to the govern- 
or's house where he was to be a guest. 

Until the Hermione came to anchor he did not 
know where Washington was to be found, but he 
had a letter ready written to despatch at once, 
begging him, if he chanced to be north of Phila- 
delphia, to await his arrival, since he brought news of 
importance. It took a week for this message to 
reach Washington's headquarters at Morristown, 
and three days later Lafayette was there himself, 
greeting and being greeted by his chief with a hearti- 
ness which showed their genuine delight at being 
together again. Having been absent for more than 
a year, he had much to learn about the progress of 
the war; and what he learned was not reassuring. 
He knew in a general way how things had gone, but 
the details showed how weak the American forces 
really were. 

Most of the fighting had been in the South. 
Savannah had been taken before Lafayette sailed 
for France. The British had followed up this suc- 
cess by sending a large force to Georgia; Southern 
Tories had been roused, and civil war had spread 
throughout the entire region. At present the 
British were advancing upon Charleston. In the 

130 



HELP— AND DISAPPOINTMENT 

North the two armies still played their waiting 
game, the British actually in New York, and Wash- 
ington in a position from which he could guard the 
Hudson, help Philadelphia in case of need, and oc- 
casionally do something to harass the enemy. 
Frequently the harassing was done by the other side, 
however. During the summer of 1779 the British 
had ravaged the Connecticut Valley. Washington 
refused to be tempted away from the Hudson, and 
the brightest spot in the annals of that year had been 
the capture of Stony Point while the British were 
thus engaged. Lafayette's acquaintance, ''Mad 
Anthony" Wayne, had taken it in a most brilHant 
assault. 

But that was only one episode and the history of 
the year could be simimed up in eight words— -dis- 
couragement, an empty treasury, unpaid troops, 
dwindling numbers. Washington's own army was 
reduced to about six thousand men, with half of 
these scarcely fit for duty. They were only partly 
clothed, and had been only partly fed for a long 
time. Their commander said of them, sadly, but 
with pride, that during their terms of service they 
had subsisted upon ''every kind of horse-food except 
hay." Lafayette expected to find the army weak, 
but this was a state of exhaustion of which he had 
not dreamed. It was very hard to have to report 
such things to Paris; in truth, for some time after 
his return he avoided reporting details as much as 
possible. 

His coming, with the news that ships and men and 
money were on the way, must have seemed little less 

131 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

than a happy miracle. But would the help come in 
time? To make it effective the country must renew 
its enthusiasm and meet assistance half-way. Wash- 
ington frankly told a committee of Congress that 
unless this could be done the coming of the French 
would be a disaster instead of a benefit. In other 
words, the country was so weak that the next efiEort 
was almost sure to be the last one. If it failed, it 
would be too exhausted to rally again. 

Lafayette left headquarters and went to Phila- 
delphia to exert whatever personal influence he pos- 
sessed upon Congress; but under the law Congress 
could raise neither men nor money. All it could do 
was to recommend such action to the thirteen differ- 
ent states. Their thirteen different legislatures had 
to deHberate and act, all of which took time when 
time was most urgent. 

In France the proposed military expedition had 
roused much enthusiasm. Young men flocked to 
enlist, as eager to fight for Hberty in America as our 
boys of 191 8 were eager to reach France on a similar 
errand. Every available spot on the transports 
was crowded. The commanding general regretfully 
left behind his two favorite war-horses because he 
knew that twenty men could go in the space they 
would occupy. Even after the ships had left the 
harbor recruits came to him on the cutter that 
brought the last despatches, begging to be taken 
aboard, but had to be sent back because there was 
literally not room for another man. 

Yet the numbers that came to America were, 
after all, disappointingly small: far less than origi- 

132 



HELP— AND DISAPPOINTMENT 

nally planned. That was because the English man- 
aged to blockade all except the first division in the 
harbor of Brest. This first division sailed on the 2d 
of May with Admiral Temay in command of the 
ships, and the gallant, cool-headed Rochambeau, 
who was already fighting at the time Lafayette was 
bom, in command of the soldiers. He had five 
thousand effective men crowded into the transports 
that left Brest with their convoy on a sunny day, the 
many white sails filling to a breeze described as 
''joli fraisy But in spite of this auspicious begin- 
ning it was a tedious crossing, longer in point of 
time than the first voyage of Columbus. The weary 
soldiers soon came to call their transports ''sabots'* 
(wooden shoes), and indeed some of them were 
scarcely larger. As our coast was neared they 
crawled along at three knots an hour, with dnmis 
beating every fifteen minutes to keep the ships in 
touch and prevent their drifting away from each 
other in the heavy, persistent fog. 

Washington had hoped that before the arrival of 
the French he could gather sufficient force to justify 
him in attacking New York with their help, for he 
was convinced that one success here would end the 
war. His army was indeed ''augmented more than 
one-half," as Lafayette wrote his wife, but before 
the ships made their slow way across the Atlantic 
the British had captured Charleston, and Clinton, 
who assisted ComwalHs in that undertaking, had 
returned to New York with a force that raised his 
strength there to twelve thousand regulars, in addi- 
tion to Admiral Arbuthnot's fleet and several thou- 
10 133 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

sand militia and refugees. Not all the earnestness 
of Washington, the efforts of Congress, nor the 
enthusiasm of Lafayette had been able to raise men 
enough to attack under these circumstances; and 
the signals displayed on Point Judith and '*the 
island of Block House" to guide the French directed 
them to go to Newxx)rt as a convenient place from 
which the attack might yet be made if events 
favored the allies. 

Lafayette went to Newport to meet Rochambeau 
and plan co-operation. By the time he reached 
there the situation was still worse, for an English 
fleet which left home about the time Rochambeau 
sailed from France had appeared, giving the British 
superior force alike on sea and land. 

Admiral Temay, who was not aggressive by nature, 
saw a repetition of D'Estaing's failure looming ahead 
of him, and sent word to France that the American 
cause was doomed. Rochambeau, being a better 
soldier, did what he could; landed his men, freeing 
them from the confinement of the "sabots;" and, 
upon a rumor that the British were advancing to 
attack, helped several thousand militia prepare for 
defense. The rumor had a foimdation of truth. 
An expedition actually left New York, but was no 
sooner started than Washington began threatening 
the city, whereupon Clinton recalled his men, for 
there was no doubt that New York was the more 
important place. 

Having no knowledge of the country, and being 
thus hurried at the moment of landing, from the r61e 
of aggressor which he had expected to play to one 

134 



HELP-AND DISAPPOINTMENT 

of defense, the situation seemed very serious to the 
French general. Even after the recall of Clinton's 
expedition he felt it most unwise to lose touch with 
his ships, and he had small patience with Lafayette, 
who seemed incHned to talk about "advances." 
Rochambeau was siire that his duty lay in waiting 
for the second division of the French force, keeping 
strict disciphne, meanwhile, in a model camp, and 
paying liberally for supplies. This he did so well 
that not an apple disappeared from the orchards in 
which the French tents were pitched, not a cornstalk 
was bent in the fields near by, and, as Lafayette 
assured Washington, the pigs and chickens of 
patriots wandered at will through the French camp 
** without being deranged." The French and Ameri- 
cans fraternized enthusiastically. ''You would have 
been amused the other day," Lafayette reported to 
his chief, ''had you seen two hundred and fifty of our 
recruits, who came to Connecticut without pro- 
visions and without tents, mixing so well with the 
French troops that each Frenchman, officer or sol- 
dier, took an American with him and amicably gave 
him a share of his bed and supper." 

The French soldiers were anxious to get out of 
Newport and at the throats of the enemy, but 
Rochambeau was firm in his determination. He de- 
sired a personal interview with Washington and felt 
a little hurt, perhaps, that a youngster like Lafayette, 
who might easily have been his own son, was made 
the means of communication. There was some 
doubt whether Washington could enter into agree- 
ments with a representative of a foreign power imtil 

J35 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

explicit authority had been given him by Congress. 
It was one of those absurd technical questions of no 
real importance that may cause a deal of trouble, 
and it was better not to have it raised. Lafayette 
continued, therefore, to be occupied in Newport 
with parleys and conferences and incidentally with 
meeting old friends. His brother-in-law, De Noail- 
les, was one of the officers who had come out with 
the expedition 

Cross-purposes were bound to arise, and there 
were moments when Lafayette's optimism got de- 
cidedly upon the nerves of Rochambeau. The two 
came to the verge of quarrel, but both were too 
sensible to allow themselves to be pushed over the 
edge. The breach was soon healed by a letter of 
Rochambeau's in which he referred to himself as an 
old father and his ''dear Marquis" as an affectionate 
son. In Lafayette's private account of this episode 
to his wife he wrote that "a slight excess of frankness 
got me into a little controversy with those generals. 
Seeing that I was not persuading them and that the 
public interest demanded we be good friends, I 
admitted at random that I had been mistaken and 
was to blame, and asked pardon in proper terms, 
which had such a magical effect that we are now 
better friends than ever." Lafayette's friends called 
him determined; his critics said that he was vain. 
Historians aver that he was never convinced by 
argument. 

August brought the unwelcome news that there 
was to be no second division of the French army that 
year. This was the more disappointing because in 

136 



HELP-AND DISAPPOINTMENT 

addition to all else it meant the continued lack of 
arms and ammunition and of clothing for fifteen 
thousand American soldiers that Lafayette had 
caused to be manufactured in France, but which 
had been left behind to come with this second 
division. He confided to his cousin that the army 
was reduced to '*a frugality, a poverty, and a nudity 
which will, I hope, be remembered in the next world, 
and counted to our credit in piu-gatory." To his 
wife he wrote that the ladies of Philadelphia had 
started a subscription to aid the soldiers, and that 
he had put down her name for one hundred guineas ; 
that he was very well; that the life of an American 
soldier was infinitely frugal; that ''the fare of the 
general officers of the rebel army is very different 
from that of the French at Newport." 

The intelligence that no more French troops could 
be expected called manifestly for new plans of cam- 
paign, and a conference between the respective 
chiefs was finally arranged, which took place at 
Hartford with considerable ceremony on the 20th 
of September. Washington had with him General 
Knox and General Lafayette. The French general 
and admiral were accompanied by as many sub- 
ordinate officers as could find plausible excuse to go 
along, for all were curious to meet the famous 
General Washington. 

At this conference the whole situation was dis- 
cussed in detail, but no way of winning the war with- 
out outside help was discovered. Rochambeau 
sent his son, who had come to America with him, back 
to France with a formal account of the proceedings; 

137 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

while Washington and Lafayette also sent letters to 
France by the son of -that Mr. Laurens who had 
offered Lafayette the hospitality of his traveling- 
carriage after the battle of the Brandywine. 

One chance of help still remained, even if the 
Ministry should consider it impossible to despatch 
aid directly from France. The Comte de Guichen, 
who commanded a fleet then in the West Indies, 
might be persuaded to sail to the relief of the Ameri- 
cans if the letters could be made sufficiently per- 
suasive. Washington wrote directly to him as 
well as to France, sending this letter through the 
French minister to the United States, in order 
that everything might be diplomatically correct 
and aboveboard. 



XVI 

BLACK TREACHERY 

WASHINGTON returned from his conference 
with the French commanders by way of West 
Point to show Lafayette some improvements re- 
cently made in the works. Several little accidents 
delayed the journey and brought them to the house 
of the commander at a critical moment. We have 
Lafayette's account, part of it written the very next 
day to the French minister to the United States, 
part of it later to his wife. 

''When I left you yesterday, M. le Chevalier, to 
come here to take breakfast with General Arnold, 
we were very far from thinking of the event which I 
am about to announce to you. You will shudder at 
the danger we have run. You will be astonished at 
the miraculous chain of accidents and circum- 
stances by which we were saved. . . . West Point 
was sold, and it was sold by Arnold! That same 
man who had covered himself with glory by rendering 
valuable services to his coimtry had lately formed a 
horrid compact with the enemy. And but for the 
chance which brought us here at a certain time, but 
for the chance which by a combination of accidents 

139 



' THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

caused the adjutant-general of the English army to 
fall into the hands of some countrymen beyond the 
line of our own posts, West Point and the North 
River would probably be in possession of our 
enemies. 

*'When we left Fishkill we were preceded by one 
of my aides-de-camp and General Knox's aide, who 
found General and Mrs. Arnold at table and sat down 
to breakfast with them. During that time two 
letters were brought to General Arnold giving him 
information of the capture of the spy. He ordered 
a horse to be saddled, went to his wife's room and 
told her he was lost, and directed one of his aides- 
de-camp to say to General Washington that he 
had gone to West Point and should return in an 
hour." 

Arnold had been gone only thirty minutes when 
Washington and Lafayette rode up. 

**We crossed the river and went to look at the 
works. Judge of our astonishment when, upon our 
return, we were informed that the captured spy was 
Major Andre, the adjutant-general of the EngHsh 
army, and that among the papers found upon him 
was a copy of a very important council of war, a 
statement of the strength of the garrison and of the 
works, and certain observations upon the methods of 
attack and defense, all in General Arnold's hand- 
writing. ... A search was made for Arnold, but he 
had escaped in a boat on board the sloop-of-war 
Vulture, and as nobody suspected his flight, no sen- 
try could have thought of arresting him. . . . The 
first care of General Washington was to return to 

140 



BLACK TREACHERY 

West Point the troops whom Arnold had dispersed 
under various pretexts. We remained here to insure 
the safety of a fort which the EngHsh would value 
less if they knew it better. . . . 

"I cannot describe to you, M. le Chevalier, to 
what degree I am astounded by this piece of news, 
, . .That Arnold, a man who, although not so highly 
esteemed as has been supposed in Europe, had 
nevertheless given proof of talent, of patriotism, and 
especially of the most brilliant courage, should at 
once destroy his very existence and should sell his 
country to the tyrants whom he had fought against 
with glory, is an event, M. le ChevaHer, which con- 
founds and distresses me, and, if I must confess it, 
humiliates me to a degree that I cannot express. I 
would give anything in the world if Arnold had not 
shared our labors with us, and if this man whom it 
still pains me to call a scoundrel had not shed his 
blood for the American cause. My knowledge of 
his personal courage led me to expect that he would 
decide to blow his brains out. This was my first 
hope. At all events, it is probable that he will do 
so when he reaches New York, whither the English 
sloop proceeded immediately upon receiving Arnold 
on board. . . . 

*'I am not writing to M. le Comte de Rochambeau 
or to M. le Chevalier de Ternay. I beg you to com- 
municate to them this incredible story. . . . What 
will the officers of the French army say when they 
see a general abandon and basely sell his country 
after having defended it so well? You can bear 
witness, M. le ChevaHer, that this is the first atrocity 

141 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

that has been heard of in our army. But if, on the 
one hand, they hear of the infamy of Arnold, they 
are bound to admire the disinterestedness of a few 
coimtrymen who happened to meet Mr. Andr^ 
with a passport from General Arnold, and on the 
mere suspicion of his being a friend of England 
made him a prisoner, refusing at the same time his 
horse, his watch, and four hundred guineas which 
he offered them if they would allow him to continue 
upon his way. . . . 

**I shall conclude my long letter, M. le Chevalier, 
by referring to a subject which must touch every 
hiunan heart. The unhappy Mrs. Arnold did not 
know a word of this conspiracy. Her husband told 
her before going away that he was flying, never to 
come back, and he left her lying unconscious. When 
she came to herself she fell into frightful convulsions 
and completely lost her reason. We did everything 
we could to quiet her, but she looked upon us as the 
miurderers of her husband. . . . The horror with which 
her husband's conduct has inspired her, and a thou- 
sand other feelings, make her the most unhappy of 
women. 

'T.S. — She has recovered her reason this morning, 
and, as you know I am upon very good terms with 
her, she sent for me to go up to her chamber. Gen- 
eral Washington and every one else sympathize 
warmly with this estimable woman whose face and 
whose youthfulness make her so interesting. She is 
going to Philadelphia, and I implore you, when you 
return, to use yom* influence in her favor. . . . Yotu* 
influence and your opinion, emphatically expressed, 

142 



BLACK TREACHERY 

may prevent her from being visited with a vengeance 
which she does not deserve. General Washington 
will protect her also. As for myself, you know that 
I have always been fond of her, and at this moment 
she interests me intensely. We are certain that she 
knew nothing of the plot." 

This letter expressed the hope that Andre would 
be hanged according to military law, because, being 
a man of high rank and influence, his fate would 
serve as a warning to spies of lesser degree. Lafay- 
ette was one of the court martial that tried and sen- 
tenced him ; and we have no proof that he hesitated 
for an instant in the performance of his stem duty 
or that he ever regretted it. Yet from a letter to 
Madame Lafayette, written after Andre's death, we 
know that Lafayette felt his charm, as did every one 
else who knew the unfortimate young Englishman. 
**He was an interesting young man," Lafayette 
wrote. *'He conducted himself in a manner so 
frank, so noble, and so delicate that I cannot help 
feeling for him infinite sorrow." 

Arnold, as everybody knows, did not blow out his 
brains, but, becoming literally a turncoat, donned 
the red of the British uniform, and took his unwel- 
come place among the gentlemen officers of King 
George. In the following spring he was doing work 
of destruction in Virginia; but he was not trusted 
by his new companions, and two British colonels 
supposed to be under his orders were secretly charged 
with the duty of keeping an eye on him. It was in 
Virginia that his path and Lafayette's crossed 
once more. 

143 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Lafayette meantime had been a prey to restless- 
ness. Nothing happened in the North more in- 
teresting than camp routine and the exchange of 
official visits. During the summer he had been 
given command of a special corps of light infantry 
culled from all branches of the service, a body of 
men in which he took infinite pride. "Its position 
is always that of advance-guard," he wrote Adrienne. 
**It is independent of the main army, and it is far 
too fime for our present pacific situation." He 
lavished training and affection upon it and pampered 
it by sending to France for luxuries like sabers and 
banners and plinnes. While less needed than coats 
and shoes, such things were easier to transport. 
But even in the matter of clothing this favored corps 
was better off than the rest of the army. A French 
officer who visited Lafayette's camp thought the uni- 
forms of both men and officers smart. Each soldier 
wore a sort of helmet made of hard leather, with a 
crest of horsehair. 

Before the army went into winter quarters many 
Frenchmen came to "the camp of the marquis" 
twenty miles from New York, making the pilgrimage 
not so much from love of him or to sample the punch 
which, according to the custom of the time, he kept 
"stationary on the table" for the benefit of his 
guests, as out of curiosity to see Washington's head- 
quarters, which were not far away. Most of them 
were impressed by the good horses owned by Ameri- 
can generals and astonished at the simplicity of their 
other equipment. Some "who had made war as 
colonels long before Lafayette left school" were the 

144 



BLACK TREACHERY 

least bit jealous of his youth and influence. Several 
had entered into an agreement not to accept service 
under him ; but all were flattered that a Frenchman 
held such high place in public esteem. One of them 
asserted with complacency that ** private letters 
from him have frequently produced more effect upon 
some states than the strongest exhortations of 
Congress." 

When the army went into winter quarters again 
he had even more time upon his hands. He wrote 
many letters. One went almost every month to his 
powerful friend at court, Vergennes, urging speedy 
aid. The military needs of the coimtry were never 
absent from his thoughts, even while he was taking 
his French friends, including De Noailles, on a per- 
sonally conducted tour of near-by battle-fields and 
cities. He did not trust himself far from head- 
quarters, for fear that his chief might need him or that 
he might miss some opportunity. When Colonel 
Laurens received his instructions before starting for 
Paris he took care to be on hand, to give expert ad- 
vice on court customs and prejudices. He was a 
young man who well knew his influence upon two 
continents, and was so eager to use it that a man 
of less winning personality in similar circumstances 
might have got himself heartily disliked. 

His eagerness to do something was heightened by 
his belief that Europe misunderstood, and thought 
Americans either unready or unwilling to fight. His 
vivid imagination got to work again and juggled 
with facts and figures until he became convinced 
that a surprise attack upon New York could do no 

145 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

possible harm and might capture the city. He de- 
tailed this plan to Washington, who saw the weak- 
ness of his reasoning and rejected it in a kind letter 
signed *' sincerely and affectionately yotrrs," remind- 
ing Lafayette that "we must consult our means 
rather than our wishes" and that "to endeavor to 
recover our reputation we should take care not to 
injure it the more." 

After this gentle snub he was torn between a de- 
sire to join General Greene in the South for the 
winter campaign and his wish to be near New York 
when a blow was struck there. With a ciuiosity 
that would have been unpardonable in a less inti- 
mate friend, he sought to find out his chief's plans 
on this score. Washington's answer was non-com- 
mittal, but he pointed out that "your going to the 
Southern army, if you expect a command in this, will 
answer no valuable purpose"; and after this second 
gentle snub Lafayette gave up the idea of joining 
Greene. Then in February he was sent with a 
detachment of twelve hundred men to Virginia, 
where Arnold was destro3dng valuable supplies. 
His orders bade him travel fast, "not to suffer the 
detachment to be delayed for want of either pro- 
visions, forage, or wagons," and after he got to Vir- 
ginia "to do no act whatever with Arnold that 
directly or by implication will screen him from 
the punishment due to his treason and desertion; 
which, if he should fall into your hands, you will 
execute in the most summary way." While in Vir- 
ginia he was to co-operate with General von Steu- 
ben, who was in command of militia there; and if 

146 



BLACK TREACHERY 

it should prove impossible to dislodge Arnold, La- 
fayette was to bring his men back to rejoin the 
main army. 

He had his force at the Head of Elk, that inlet at 
the head of Chesapeake Bay which the English had 
already used, three days ahead of schedule time. 
His campaign lasted about a month, but came to 
nothing, because he did not have the co-operation of 
ships, and in that tangle of land and water control 
of Chesapeake Bay was as necessary to success as 
ammunition or fodder. The French had been 
asked to help, and twice sent ships from Newport to 
Chesapeake Bay, but in neither case were they use- 
ful to him. He did the best he could from day to 
day without them, and even pushed down the bay 
in a small boat far ahead of his men, hoping to 
estabhsh connections; but the ships he saw were 
British instead of French. Then he took his men 
back again to the Head of Elk. 

That his failure was not due to lack of persistence 
letters written by him to Gov. Thomas Jefferson, 
asking for transportation, for provisions, for boats, 
for wagons, for horses, and, if horses were not avail- 
able, even for oxen to draw his guns, amply testify. 
That he had his usual resourcefulness at instant 
command was displayed at Annapolis on the north- 
ward journey when he found two small armed 
British vessels blocking his progress. He impro- 
vised a temporary navy of his own, armed two 
merchant sloops with cannon, manned them with 
volimteers, and drove the British away long enough 
to permit the rest of his force to go on. 

147 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Neither was his usual friendliness lacking. He 
snatched time to visit Mount Vernon and to call 
upon Washington's mother at Fredericksburg, but 
he made up for the time lost in these indulgences by 
riding at night to overtake his command. 



XVII 

PREPARING FOR THE LAST ACT 

THE British were beginning to be hard pressed in 
the South. The struggle had been long and 
disappointing, and burning and looting and the hor- 
rors of civil war had spread over a large area. Two 
Continental armies had been lost in rapid succession, 
and there had been months when one disaster seemed 
to follow upon another; but gradually the British 
were being driven away from their ships and bases 
of supply on the coast. The heat of summer had 
brought much sickness to their camps, and General 
Greene, next to Washington the most skilful of the 
Revolutionary generals, had perfected his "science 
of losing battles" to the point where his opponents 
might claim almost every engagement as a victory 
and yet the advantage remained with the Americans. 
Recently the British had lost a large part of their 
light troops. In March, 1781, Comwallis decided 
to leave General Rawdon, with whom Lafayette 
had danced in London, to face Greene, while he him- 
self went to Virginia, joined Benedict Arnold and 
General Phillips there, and returned with them to 
fxnish the conquest of the South. Washington 
11 149 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

learned of the plan and knew that if it succeeded 
General Greene might be crushed between two 
British forces. Arnold and Phillips must be kept 
busy in Virginia. Steuben was already on the 
ground; Anthony Wayne was ordered to hurry 
his Pennsylvanians to the rescue; and Lafayette, 
being near the point of danger, was turned back. 
He found new orders when he reached Head 
of Elk. 

The scene was being set in Virginia, not in New 
York, for the last act of the Revolutionary War; but 
neither he nor his men realized this, and if Lafayette 
was disappointed, the men were almost in a state of 
panic. They began deserting in large numbers. 
''They like better a hundred lashes than a journey 
to the southward," their commander wrote. ''As 
long as they had an expedition in view they were 
very well satisfied; but the idea of remaining in the 
Southern states appears to them intolerable, and 
they are amazingly averse to the people and climate." 
Most of them were New England bom. He hast- 
ened to put many rivers between them and the 
land of their desire; and also tried an appeal to their 
pride. In an order of the day he stated that his 
force had been chosen to fight an enemy superior 
in numbers and to encounter many dangers. No 
man need desert, for their commander would not 
compel one of them to accompany him against his 
will. Whoever chose to do so might apply for a pass 
and be sent back to rejoin his former regiment. 
They were part of his beloved light infantry of the 
previous year, with all this implied of friendship and 

150 



PREPARING FOR THE LAST ACT 

interest on both sides, and this appeal worked like 
a charm. Desertion went suddenly and completely 
out of fashion ; nobody asked for a pass, and one poor 
fellow who was in danger of being sent back because 
he was lame hired a cart to be saved from this 
disgrace. 

Lafayette's men had once been better dressed than 
the average; but their present ragged clothing was 
entirely unsuited to the work ahead of them, being 
fit only for winter wear in the North. As usual, 
money and new garments were equally lacking, and 
as usual this general of twenty-three came to the 
rescue. When he reached Baltimore he let the 
merchants know that according to French law he 
was to come into full control of all his property on 
reaching the age of twenty-five, and he promised 
to pay two years hence for everything he ordered, if 
the government did not pay them earlier. On the 
strength of this he borrowed two thousand guineas 
with which to buy overalls, hats, and shoes; and he 
smiled upon the ladies of Baltimore, who gave a ball 
in his honor, told them confidentially of his plight, 
and so stirred their patriotism and sympathy that 
they set to work with their own fair hands and made 
up the linen he bought for shirts. 

Phillips and Arnold had joined forces near Nor- 
folk, and, since the British were in control of Chesa- 
peake Bay, could go where they chose. Lafayette 
believed they would soon move up the James River 
toward Norfolk to destroy supplies the Americans 
had collected. He resolved to get to Richmond 
before them, though he had twice the distance to 

151 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

travel. With this in view he set out from Baltimore 
on the 19th of April, moving with such haste that 
his artillery and even the tents for his men were left 
to follow at a slower pace. On the day before he 
left Baltimore the British, under General Phillips, 
who outranked Arnold, began the very march he 
had foreseen. Steuben's Virginia militia put up the 
best defense it could, but, being inferior in numbers 
and training, could only retire inch by inch, moving 
supplies to places of greater safety as it went. But 
it retired hopefully, knowing Lafayette to be on the 
way. 

Continuing to advance, partly by land and partly 
by water, the British reached Petersburg, only 
twenty-three miles from Richmond. They passed 
Petersburg and pressed on. On April 30th they 
reached Manchester on the south bank of the James, 
directly opposite Richmond. There, to General 
Phillips's amazement, he beheld more than the town 
he had come to take; drawn up on the hills above 
the river was Lafayette's force, which had arrived 
the night before. He had only about nine hundred 
Continentals in addition to his militia, and the 
British numbered twenty-three hundred, but Phil- 
lips did not choose to attack. He contented himself 
with swearing eloquently and giving orders to retire. 
Lafayette had the satisfaction of learning, through 
an officer who visited the British camp under flag of 
truce, that his enemy had been completely surprised. 
But the young Frenchman felt it necessary to explain 
to Washington just how he had been able to do it. 
**The leaving of my artillery appears a strange whim, 

152 



PREPARING FOR THE LAST ACT 

but had I waited for it Richmond was lost. ... It 
was not without trouble I have made this rapid 
march.'* 

Lafayette was to be under General Greene and 
expected to find orders from him waiting at Rich- 
mond. Not finding them, he decided he could best 
serve the cause by keeping General Phillips uneasy, 
and followed him down the James; but, being too 
weak to attack except with great advantage of posi- 
tion, he prudently kept the river between them. 
The military journal kept by Colonel Simcoe, one 
of the British officers charged with the unpleasant 
duty of watching Arnold, admits that this was ''good 
policy,'' though he longed to take advantage of 
what he called his French adversary's ''gasconading 
disposition and military ignorance" and make some 
counter-move which his own superior officers failed 
to approve. 

This retreat of the British down the James, fol- 
lowed by Lafayette, was the beginning of that strange 
contra-dance which the two armies maintained for 
nine v/eeks. Sketched upon a map of Virginia, the 
route they took resembles nothing except the aimless 
markings of a little child. The zigzag lines extend 
as far west as the mountains at Charlottesville, as 
far south as Portsmouth, as far north as Fredericks- 
burg and Culpeper, and end at Yorktown. 

Cornwallis had not approved of General Clinton's 
conduct of the war, believing the British commander- 
in-chief frittered away his opportunity. Cornwallis 
said he was "quite tired of marching about the 
coimtry in search of adventure." The experiences 

153 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

he was to have in Virginia must have greatly- 
added to that weariness. 

He sent word to PhilHps to join him at Petersburg. 
General Phillips turned his forces in that direction, 
but it proved to be his last order. He was already 
ill and soon lapsed into unconsciousness and died. 
His death placed Arnold again in command until 
Cornwallis should arrive. It was during this inter- 
val that Arnold took occasion to write Lafayette 
about prisoners of war. Mindful of his instruc- 
tions to have nothing to do with Arnold except to 
punish him, Lafayette refused to receive the let- 
ter, saying to the messenger who brought it that 
he would gladly read a communication from any 
other British officer. Arnold had a keen interest in 
the treatment of prisoners — for very personal rea- 
sons. A story was current to the effect that one of 
Lafayette's command who was taken prisoner was 
questioned by Arnold himself and asked what the 
Americans would do to him in case he was captured. 
*'Cut off the leg which was wounded in your coun- 
try's service, and hang the rest of you!" was the 
prompt reply. The renegade general was not popu- 
lar in either army. Soon after Cornwallis 's arrival 
he was ordered elsewhere, and his name fades out of 
history. 

Lafayette counted the hours until Wayne should 
join him, but Cornwallis reached Virginia first, with 
troops enough to make Lafayette's situation de- 
cidedly grave. All the Americans could do was to 
follow the plan Steuben had adopted before Lafay- 
ette's arrival; retreat slowly, removing stores to 

154 



PREPARING FOR THE LAST ACT 

places of safety whenever possible. General Greene 
gave Lafayette permission to act independently, but, 
while this enabled him to make quick decisions, it 
increased his load of responsibility and did not in 
the least augment his strength. 

In the North he had longed for more to do ; here 
it was different. He wrote Alexander Hamilton, 
'Tor the present, my dear friend, my complaint is 
quite of the opposite nature,*' and he went on with a 
half-humorous account of his duties, his situation, 
and the relative strength of the two armies. The 
British, he thought, had between four thousand and 
five thousand men. *'We have nine hundred Con- 
tinentals. Their infantry is near five to one, their 
cavalry ten to one. Our militia is not numerous, 
some without arms, and are not used to war.'* 
Wayne's men were necessary even to allow the 
Americans to be beaten ''with some decency." 
*'But," he added, "if the Pennsylvanians come, Lord 
Cornwallis shall pay something for his victory!" 
The Virginia militia showed symptoms of deserting 
as harvest-time approached and the call of home 
duties grew strong. Then there was the danger of 
contagious disease. "By the utmost care to avoid 
infected ground, we have hitherto got rid of the 
smallpox," Lafayette wrote in another letter. "I 
wish the harvest- time might be as easily got over." 

Cornwallis was fully aware of his superior numbers 
and had a simple plan. 'T shall now proceed to dis- 
lodge Lafayette from Richmond, and with my light 
troops to destroy magazines or stores in the neigh- 
borhood. . . . From thence I propose to move to the 

^55. 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

neck at Williamsburg, which is represented as 
healthy . . . and keep myself unengaged from opera- 
tions which might interfere with your plan for the 
campaign until I have the satisfaction of hearing 
from you/' he wrote Clinton. He was very sure 
that the ** aspiring boy,"- as he contemptuously 
called Lafayette, could not escape him. But the 
*'boy" had no intention of being beaten — *' in- 
decently" — if he could hold out until Wayne ar- 
rived. He knew that one false move would be his 
ruin and there was no wild planning. "Indepen- 
dence has rendered me more cautious, as I know my 
warmth," he told Hamilton. He knew how to 
travel swiftly, and sometimes it was necessary to 
move as swiftly as possible. Even so the British 
advance might come up just as the last of his little 
force disappeared. If Comwallis tried a short cut to 
head him off, he changed his direction; and more of 
those apparently aimless lines were traced upon the 
map. 

On the loth of June Wayne joined him about 
thirty-five miles west of Fredericksburg. His force 
was smaller than Lafayette had hoped for, *'less 
than a thousand men in all" ; but from that time the 
Continental troops no longer fled. Indeed, Com- 
wallis no longer pursued them, but veered off, sending 
General Tarleton's famous cavalry on a raid toward 
Charlottesville, where it made prisoners of several 
members of the Virginia legislature and almost suc- 
ceeded in capturing Gov. Thomas Jefferson. An- 
other portion of his force turned its attention upon 
Steuben where he was guarding supplies. But 

156 



PREPARING FOR THE LAST ACT 

gradually pursuit became retreat and the general 
direction of the zigzag was back toward the sea. 
The chances were still uncertain enough to make the 
game exciting. There was one moment when Lafay- 
ette's fiank was in imminent danger; his men, how- 
ever, marched by night along a forgotten wood 
road and reached safety. Six hundred mounted men 
who came to join him from neighboring counties 
were warmly welcomed, for he sorely needed horses. 
At one time, to get his men forward more speedily 
for an attack — attacks were increasingly frequent — 
each horse was made to carry double. After he and 
General Steuben joined forces on the 19th of June 
the English and Americans each had about four 
thousand men, though in the American camp there 
were only fifteen hundred regulars and fifty dragoons. 
Weapons for cavalry were even scarcer than 
horses. Swords could not be bought in the state; 
but Lafayette was so intent upon mounted troops 
that he planned to provide some of them with 
spears, ''which," he argued/ "in the hands of a 
gentleman must be a formidable weapon.'* Thus 
reverting to type, as biologists say, this descendant 
of the Crusaders drove his enemy before him with 
Crusaders' weapons down the peninsula between the 
York and the James rivers. 



XVIII 

YORKTOWN 

ONE of General Wayne's officers, Captain Davis 
of the First Pennsylvania, whose military skill, 
let us hope, exceeded his knowledge of spelling, kept 
a diary full of enthusiasm and superfluous capital 
letters. By this we learn that the Fourth of July, 
1 78 1, was a wet morning which cleared off in time 
f or a " Feu-de- joy ' ' in honor of the day. The Ameri- 
cans had by this time forced the British down the 
peninsula as far as Williamsburg, and were them- 
selves camped about fifteen miles from that town. 
While the "Feu-de- joy" went up in smoke the 
British were busy; for Cornwallis had received 
letters which decided him to abandon Williamsburg, 
send a large part of his men north to reinforce 
Clinton, and consoHdate the rest with the British 
garrison at Portsmouth, near Norfolk. 

The battle of Green Springs, the most serious en- 
counter of Lafayette's Virginia campaign, took 
place on the 6th of July, near Jamestown, when the 
British, in carrying out this plan, crossed to the 
south side of the river James. Cornwallis was sure 
that Lafayette would attack, and arranged an am- 

158 



YORKTOWN 

bush, meaning to lure him with the belief that all 
except the British rear-guard had passed to the 
other bank. The ruse only half succeeded, for Lafay- 
ette observed that the British clung tenaciously to 
their position and replaced the officers American 
riflemen picked off one after the other. Riding out 
on a point of land, he saw the British soldiers waiting 
under protection of their guns and spurred back to 
warn General Wayne, but by that time the battle 
had opened. Wayne's men suffered most, being 
nearly surrounded. In a tight place Wayne always 
preferred "among a choice of difficulties, to advance 
and charge"; and this was exactly what he did, 
straight into the British lines. The unexpectedness 
of it brought success; and in the momentary con- 
fusion he fell back to a place of safety. Afterward 
he had a word to say about Lafayette's personal 
conduct. Reporting that no officers were killed, 
though most of them had horses shot or wounded 
under them, he added: '*I will not condole with the 
Marquis for the loss of two of his, as he was fre- 
quently requested to keep at a greater distance. His 
native bravery rendered him deaf to the admonition." 
The British retained the battle-field and the Ameri- 
cans most of the glory, as was the case in so many 
fights of the Revolution. British military writers 
have contended that Lafayette was in mortal 
danger and that Comwallis could have annihilated 
his whole force if he had attacked that night. What 
Comwallis did was to cross the river next morning 
and proceed toward Portsmouth. The affair at 
Green Springs added materially to Lafayette's repu- 

^59 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

tation. Indeed, with the exception of burning a 
few American stores, increasing Lafayette's military 
reputation was about all the British accomplished 
in this campaign. An American officer with a taste 
for figures gleefully estimated that Comwallis's **tour 
in Virginia" cost King George, one way and another, 
more than would have been needed to take all the 
British aristocracy on a trip around the world. 

Cornwallis got his soldiers safely upon their 
transports, but it was written in the stars that they 
were not to leave Virginia of their own free will. 
Orders came from Clinton telling him not to send 
them north, and giving him to understand that his 
recent acts were not approved. Clinton directed 
him to establish himself in a healthy spot on the 
peninsula between the York and James rivers and 
to gain control of a seaport to which British ships 
could come. He suggested Old Point Comfort, but 
Comwallis's engineers decided that Yorktown, with 
the neck of land opposite called Gloucester, was the 
only place that would serve. Here Cornwallis 
brought his army on the ist of August and began 
building defenses. 

Following the battle of Green Springs, Lafayette 
occupied Williamsburg and gave his men the rest 
they needed after their many weeks of marching. 
He sent out detachments on various errands, but 
this was a season of comparative quiet. Soon he 
began to long for excitement, and wrote to Washing- 
ton that he did not know about anything that was 
happening in the world outside of Virginia, that he 
was homesick for headquarters, and that if he could 

i6o 



YORKTOWN 

not be there to help in the defense of New York, at 
least he would like to know what was going on. 
The answer only whetted his curiosity. Washing- 
ton bade him await a confidential letter explaining 
his plans. 

The military situation as Washington saw it was 
exceedingly interesting. Colonel Laurens's mission 
to the French court had turned out badly. Perhaps 
he had not taken sufficiently to heart Lafayette's 
advice; but young Rochambeau had not fared much 
better. In May it had been learned that there was 
never to be any second division of the French army; 
a blow that was softened by the assurance that con- 
siderable money was actually on the way and that 
a French fleet, which had sailed for the West Indies 
under command of Comte de Grasse, might visit the 
coast of the United States for a short time. 

It was the approach of this French fleet which 
caused Clinton uneasiness in New York and made 
Comwallis embark part of his troops for the North. 
Washington took good care to let Clinton rest in the 
belief that New York was to be attacked, but it 
became increasingly evident to him that the greatest 
blow he could strike would be to capture Com- 
wallis's army. He arranged with Admiral de Grasse 
to sail to Chesapeake Bay instead of to New York, 
sent word to Lafayette to be on the lookout for the 
French fleet, moved Rochambeau's soldiers from 
Newport to the Hudson, left a sufficient number of 
them there and started south with all the rest of the 
army, moving with the greatest possible speed. 
Those of us who have read about this merely as long 

i6i 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

past history do not realize the risks involved in 
planning such far-reaching combinations in days 
before cables and telegraph lines. 

**To blockade Rhode Island, fool Clinton, shut 
him up in New York, and keep Cornwallis in Vir- 
ginia,'' says a French writer, "it was necessary to 
send from the port of Brest and later from the 
Antilles to Chesapeake Bay a flotilla destined to 
take from the English all hope of retreat and em- 
barkation at the exact instant that Washington, 
Rochambeau, and Lafayette should come and force 
the English in their last intrenchments. This grand 
project which decided the outcome of the war could 
be conceived only by men of superior talent," 
Lafayette's friend, De Segur, said that '4t required 
all the audacity of Admiral Comte de Grasse and 
the skill of Washington, sustained by the bravery 
of Lafayette, the wisdom of Rochambeau, the heroic 
intrepidity of our sailors and our troops, as well as 
the valor of the American militia." 

Fortunately the geography of the Atlantic coast 
helped Washington keep his secret even after he was 
well started. If De Grasse came to New York, 
Washington's logical goal was Staten Island, and 
the route of the Continental army would be the 
same in either case for a long distance. After Phila- 
delphia had been left behind and Washington's plan 
became evident, it was too late for Clinton to stop 
him. 

Thus the net tightened about Cornwallis. French 
ships in the bay effectually cut off hope of reinforce- 
ment or escape by sea. Lafayette stationed Wayne 

162 



YORKTOWN 

where he could interpose if the British attempted to 
go by land toward the Carolinas. He sent his 
faithful friend, De Gimat, down the bay to meet 
the French admiral and give him information, and 
disposed his own forces to cover the landing of any 
soldiers De Grasse might bring him. 

It must have been a fine sight when twenty-eight 
large ships of the Hne and four French frigates sailed 
up the James River on the 2d of September and 
landed three thousand soldiers, "all very tall men" 
in uniforms of white turned up with blue. Lafay- 
ette's Americans, drawn up not far from the battle- 
ground of Green Springs, donned their ragged best 
in their honor. ''Our men had orders to wash and 
put on clean clothes," a diary informs us. 

With this addition to his force Lafayette ap- 
proached Yorktown. General Saint-Simon, the com- 
mander of the three thousand very tall men, was 
much older than Lafayette, besides being a marshal 
of France, but he gallantly signified his willingness to 
serve under his junior; and officers and privates alike 
accepted cheerfully the scanty American fare, which 
was all Lafayette could get for his enlarged military 
family. He found difficulty in collecting even this 
and wrote Washington that his duties as quarter- 
master had brought on violent headache and fever, 
but that the indisposition would vanish with three 
hoiu-s' needed sleep. 

In spite of their politeness it was evident that the 
visitors were anxious to be through with their task 
and away. Admiral de Grasse had a rendezvous for 
a certain date in the West Indies and insisted from 

163 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

the first that his stay in American waters must be 
short. The French were scarcely inclined to await 
the arrival of Washington; yet with all Washington's 
haste he had only reached Chester, Pennsylvania, on 
the way to Head of Elk when he heard of De Grasse's 
arrival. Those who were with him when the news 
came were more impressed by the way he received 
it than by the news itself. His reserve and dignity 
fell from him like a garment, and his face beamed 
like that of a delighted child as he stood on the 
river-bank waving his hat in the air and shouting 
the glad tidings to Rochambeau. 

When Washington reached Williamsburg on the 
13th of September he found both Lafayette and 
General Wayne the worse for wear. Wayne, with 
characteristic impetuosity, had tried to pass one of 
Lafayette's sentries after dark and was nursing a 
slight wound in consequence. Lafayette's quarter- 
master headache had developed into an attack of 
ague; but that did not prevent his being present at 
the ceremonies which marked the official meeting of 
the allied commanders. There were all possible 
salutes and official visits, and, in addition, at a grand 
supper a band played a kind of music seldom heard 
in America in those days — the overture to a French 
opera ** signifying the happiness of a family when 
blessed with the presence of their father." 

Washington's arrival of course put an end to 
Lafayette's independent command. With the Com- 
mander-in-chief present he became again what he had 
been the previous summer, merely the commander of 
a division of light infantry, and as such took part in 

164 



YORKTOWN 

the siege of Yorktown, which progressed unfalter- 
ingly. The night of October 14th witnessed its 
most dramatic incident, the taking of two re- 
doubts, one by French troops, the other by Ameri- 
cans imder Lafayette. , Among his officers were 
Gimat, John Laurens, and Alexander Hamilton. 
Six shells in rapid succession gave the signal to ad- 
vance, and his four hundred men obeyed under fire 
without returning a shot, so rapidly that the place 
was taken at the point of the bayonet in a very 
few minutes. Lafayette's first care was to send an 
aide with his compliments and a message to Baron 
Viomenil, the French commander, whose troops 
were still attacking; the message being that the 
Americans had gained their redoubt and would 
gladly come to his assistance if he desired it. This 
was a bit of vainglory, for Viomenil had nettled 
Lafayette by doubting if his Americans could suc- 
ceed. On the night of October 15th the British 
attempted a sortie which failed. After an equally 
unsuccessful attempt to escape by water, Comwallis 
felt that there was no more hope, for his works were 
crumbling and, in addition to his loss in killed and 
wounded, many of his men were sick. He wrote a 
short note to Washington asking for an armistice to 
arrange terms of surrender. 

The time of surrender was fixed for two o'clock on 
the afternoon of October 19, 1781. Lafayette had 
suggested that Comwallis 's bands be required to 
play a British or a German air when the soldiers 
marched to lay down their arms. This was in 
courteous retaliation for the treatment our own 
12 165 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

troops had received at British hands at the surrender 
of Charleston, when they had been forbidden to play- 
such music. It was to the tune of ''The World 
Turned Upside Down" that they chose to march 
with colors cased, between the long lines of French 
and Americans drawn up on the Hampton Road, to 
a field where a squadron of French had spread out 
to form a huge circle. The French on one side of 
the road under their flag with the golden fleur-de-lis 
were resplendent in uniforms of white turned up 
with blue. The Americans were less imposing. In 
the militia regiments toward the end of their Hne 
scarcely a uniform was to be seen, but at their head 
Washington and his officers, superbly moimted, 
stood opposite Rochambeau and the other French 
generals. Eye-witnesses thought that the British 
showed disdain of the ragged American soldiers and 
a marked preference for the French, but acts of dis- 
courtesy were few, and the higher officers conducted 
themselves as befitted gentlemen. ComwalHs did 
not appear to give up his sword, but sent General 
O'Hara to represent him, and it was received on 
Washington's part by General Lincoln, who had 
given up his sword to the British at Charleston. 

As each British regiment reached the field where 
the French waited it laid down its arms at the com- 
mand of its colonel and marched back to Yorktown, 
prisoners of war. The cheeks of one colonel were 
wet with tears as he gave the order, and a corporal 
was heard to whisper to his musket as he laid it 
down, "May you never get so good a master!" 
Care was taken not to add to the humiliation of the 

i66 



YORKTOWN 

vanquished by admitting sightseers, and all agree' 
that there was no cheering or exulting. ''Universal 
silence was observed," says General "Lighthorse 
Harry" Lee, who was there. ''The utmost decency 
prevailed, exhibiting in demeanor an awful sense of 
the vicissitudes of human life, mingled with com- 
miseration for the unhappy." There was more 
than commiseration; there was real friendliness. 
Rochambeau, learning that Comwallis was without 
money, lent him all he needed. Dinners were given 
at which British officers were the guests of honor; 
and we have Lafayette's word for it that "every sort 
of politeness" was shown. 

Washington's aide. Colonel Tilghman, rode at top 
speed to Philadelphia with news of the surrender, 
reaching there after midnight on the 24th. He 
met a watchman as he entered the city, and bade 
him show him the way to the house of the president 
of Congress. The watchman, of course, learned the 
great news, and while Tilghman roused the high 
official, the watchman, who was a patriot, though he 
had a strong German accent, continued his rounds, 
calling, happily: 

"Basht dree o'glock, . und Com-wal-lis isht 
da-a-ken!" 



XIX 



**THE WINE OF HONOR' 



ABOUT the time that Colonel Tilghman rode into 
Philadelphia a large British fleet appeared just 
outside of Chesapeake Bay, thirty-one ships one day 
and twenty-five more the next; but they were too 
late. As a French officer remarked, ''The chicken 
was already eaten," and two days later the last sail 
had disappeared. The surrender of Comwallis cost 
England the war, but nobody could be quite sure of 
it at that time. Washington hoped the French 
admiral would still help him by taking American 
troops south, either to reinforce General Greene 
near Charleston or for operations against Wilming- 
ton, North Carolina. Two days after the fall of 
Yorktown, when Washington made a visit of thanks 
to De Grasse upon his flag-ship, Lafayette accom- 
panied his chief; and after Washington took leave 
Lafayette stayed for further consultation, it being 
Washington's plan to give Lafayette command of 
this expedition against Wilmington in case it should 
be decided upon. The young general came ashore 
in high spirits, siure that two thousand American 
soldiers could sail for North Carolina within the 

i68 



"THE WINE OF HONOR" 

next ten days. Reflection, however, showed the 
admiral many obstacles, chief of them being that he 
had positive orders to meet a Spanish admiral in the 
West Indies on a certain day, now very near. Taking 
troops to Wilmington might delay him only a few 
hours, but on the other hand contrary winds might 
lengthen the time to two weeks, in which case he 
would have to sail off to the rendezvous, carr>dng the 
whole American expedition with him. After thinking 
it over, he politely but firmly refused. Reinforce- 
ments for General Greene were sent by land under 
command of another officer, the expedition to Wil- 
mington was given up, and Lafayette rode away to 
Philadelphia to ask leave of Congress to spend the 
following winter in Paris. This was readily granted 
in resolutions which cannily combined anticipation 
of future favors with thanks for the service he had 
already rendered. 

Once more he sailed from Boston on the Alliance, 
This time the voyage was short and lacked the ex- 
citing features of his previous trip on her. Wishing 
to surprise his wife, he landed at Lorient and posted 
to Paris with such haste that he arrived quite unex- 
pectedly on the 2 1 St of January, to find an empty 
house, Adrienne being at the moment at the Hotel 
de Ville, attending festivities in honor of the unfor- 
tunate little Dauphin. When the news of her hus- 
band's return finally reached her on the breath of 
the crowd she was separated from her home by 
streets in such happy turmoil that she could not 
hope to reach the Hotel de Noailles for hours. 
Marie Antoinette hastened this journey's end in 

169 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

a lovers' meeting in right queenly fashion by hold- 
ing up a royal procession and sending Madame 
Lafayette home in her own carriage. Accounts 
written at the time tell how the husband heard his 
wife's voice and flew to the door, how she fell into 
his arms half fainting with emotion, and how he 
carried her inside and the great doors closed while the 
crowd in the street applauded. What happened 
after that we do not know, except that he found 
other members of his family strangely altered. 
**My daughter and your George have grown so 
much that I find myself older than I thought/* the 
father wrote Washington. 

Paris set about celebrating his return with enthu- 
siasm. A private letter which made much of the 
queen's graciousness to Madame Lafayette remarked 
as of lesser moment that a numerous and joyous 
band of ''poissards,'* which we may translate "the 
rabble," brought branches of laurel to the H6tel de 
Noailles. A prima donna offered him the same 
tribute at the opera, but in view of later happenings 
this homage of the common people was quite as 
significant. In vaudeville they sang topical songs 
about him; pretty ladies frankly showed him their 
favor; the ancient order of Masons, of which he was 
a member, gave him the welcome reserved for heroes; 
and he was wined and dined to an extent that only a 
man blessed with his strong digestion could have 
withstood. One of these dinners was given by the 
dissolute old Marechal de Richelieu, nephew of the 
famous cardinal, and to this were bidden *'all the 
mar Achats of France," who drank Washington's health 

170 



"THE WINE OF HONOR" 

with fervor and bade the guest of honor convey to 
him ** their homage.** 

It had been more than a century since France 
won a victory over England comparable to this cap- 
ture of Comwallis, and national pride and exultation 
were plainly apparent in the honors bestowed upon 
the returned soldier. "Your name is held in venera- 
tion," Vergennes assured him. "It required a great 
deal of skill to maintain yourself as you did, for so 
long a time, in spite of the disparity of your forces, 
before Lord Comwallis, whose military talents are 
well known." And the new Minister of War, M, de 
S6gur, father of Lafayette*s boyhood friend, in- 
formed him that as "a particular and flattering 
favor" the king had been pleased to make him a 
marshal of France, his commission dating from the 
1 8th of October. This rank corresponded to that of 
major-general in the American army, and Lafayette 
was to assume it at the end of the American war. 
There were officers in the army who did not approve 
of this honor. They could not see that Lafayette 
had done anything to warrant making a French 
colonel into a major-general overnight and over the 
heads of officers of higher rank. They were quite 
sure they would have done as well had the oppor- 
tunity come their way. Kings do not often reward 
subjects for services rendered a foreign nation; and 
the part that strikes us as odd is that Lafayette had 
been fighting against monarchy, the very form of 
government his own king represented. But Lafay- 
ette's life abounded in such contradictions. 

His popularity was no nine days* affair. Frank- 

171 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

lin found it of very practical use. *'He gains daily 
in public esteem and affection, and promises to be 
a great man in his own country," the American 
wrote, after Lafayette had been back for some weeks, 
adding, **he has been truly useful to me in my 
efforts to obtain increased assistance." Before the 
young hero arrived Franklin had found it difficult 
to arrange a new American loan, but with such en- 
thusiasm sweeping Paris it was almost easy. The 
town went quite wild. John Ledyard, the American 
explorer, who was there at the time, wrote: 'T took 
a walk to Paris this morning and saw the Marquis 
de Lafayette. He is a good man, this same marquis. 
I esteem him: I even love him, and so do we all, 
except some who worship." Then he added, "If I 
find in my travels a mountain as much elevated 
above other moimtains as he is above ordinary men, 
I will name it Lafayette." 

Envoys to discuss peace had already reached Paris, 
but it was not at all certain that England would give 
up the contest without one more campaign. To be 
on the safe side it was planned to send a combined 
fleet of French and Spanish ships convoying twenty- 
four thousand soldiers to the West Indies to attack 
the English island of Jamaica. Ships and men were 
to be under command of Admiral d'Estaing, who 
wished Lafayette to go with him as chief -of-staff. 
After the work was done in the West Indies D'Estaing 
would sail northward and detach six thousand troops 
to aid a revolution in Canada, a project Lafayette 
had never wholly abandoned. The expedition was 
to sail from Cadiz, and Lafayette was already in 

172 



"THE WINE OF HONOR" 

Spain with part of the French force when he learned 
that the preHminary treaty of peace had been signed 
at Versailles on January 20, 1782. He longed to 
carry the news to America himself, but was told that 
he could do much in Spain to secure advantageous 
trade agreements between that country and the 
United States. So he contented himself with bor- 
rowing a vessel from the fleet that was now without 
a destination, and sending two letters by it. One, 
very dignified in tone, was addressed to Congress. 
The other, to Washington, was joyously personal. 
**If you were a mere man like Csesar or the King of 
Prussia," he wrote, *'I would almost regret, on your 
account, to see the end of the tragedy in which you 
have played so grand a role. But I rejoice with 
you, my dear General, in this peace which fulfils all 
my desires. . . . What sentiments of pride and joy I 
feel in thinking of the circumstances which led to 
my joining the American cause! ... I foresee that 
my grandchildren will be envied when they celebrate 
and honor your name. To have had one of their 
ancestors among your soldiers, to know that he had 
the good fortune to be the friend of your heart, will 
be the eternal honor that shall glorify them; and I 
will bequeath to the eldest among them, so long as 
my posterity shall endure, the favor you have been 
pleased to bestow upon my son George." 

The ship on which these letters were sent was 
called, appropriately, La Triomphe; and, as he 
hoped, it did actually carry the news of peace to 
America, reaching port ahead of all others. 

For himself, he remained in Spain, doing what he 
173 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

could for America. The things he witnessed there 
made him a better republican than ever. He wrote 
to his aunt that the grandees of the court looked 
rather small, "especially when I saw them upon their 
knees." Absolute power, exercised either by mon- 
archs or subjects, was becoming more and more 
distasteful to him. The injustice of negro slavery, 
for example, wrung his heart. In the very letter 
to Washington announcing peace he wrote: "Now 
that you are to taste a little repose, permit me to 
propose to you a plan that may become vastly useful 
to the black portion of the human race. Let us 
unite in buying a little property where we can try 
to enfranchise the negroes and employ them merely 
as farm laborers." He did buy a plantation called 
Belle Gabrielle in Cayenne, French Guiana, and 
lavished money and thought upon it. It was an 
experiment in which his wife heartily joined, sending 
out teachers for the black tenantry and making 
their souls and morals her special care. The French 
Revolution put an end to this, as it did to so many 
enterprises; and it seems a bitter jest of fortune 
that when Lafayette's property was seized these 
poor creatures were sold back again into slavery — 
in the name of Freedom and Equality. 

In March, 1783, Lafayette took his wife to Cha- 
vaniac, possibly for the first time. One of the two 
aunts who made the old manor-house their home 
had just died, leaving the other desolate. While 
Adrienne won the affections of the lonely old lady, 
her husband set about improving the condition of the 
peasants on the estate. Bad harvests had brought 

174 



"THE WINE OF HONOR" 

about great scarcity of food. " His manager proudly 
^owed his granaries full of wheat, remarking, "Mon- 
sieur le Marquis, now is the time to sell." The 
answer, '*No, this is the time to give away," left the 
worthy steward breathless. Whether Lafayette's 
philanthropies would win the approval of social 
workers to-day we do not know. The list of enter- 
prises sounds well. During the next few years he 
built roads, brought an expert from England to 
demonstrate new methods in agriculture, imported 
tools and superior breeds of animals, established a 
weekly market and an annual fair, started the weav- 
ing industry and a school to teach it, and established 
a resident physician to look after the health of his 
tenants. He was popular with them. On his 
arrival he was met in the town of Rion by a pro- 
cession headed by musicians and the town officials, 
who ceremoniously presented "the wine of honor" 
and were followed by local judges in red robes who 
"made him compliments," while the people cried, 
"Vive Lafayette!" and danced and embraced, "al- 
most without knowing one another." A few weeks 
later the tenants from a neighboring manor came 
bringing him a draught of wine from their town, and 
expressing the wish that they might come under his 
rule. This he was able to gratify a few years later, 
when he bought the estate. 

In May, 1783, Lafayette realized the long-cher- 
ished dream of having a home of his own. The 
H6tel de Noailles was very grand and very beautiful, 
and while he was away fighting it was by far the 
best place for Adrienne and the children; but it 

175 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

belonged to her people, not to him. From camps he 
had written her about this home they were some day 
to have together; and now that he had returned to 
France to stay they bought a house in the rue de 
Bourbon and set up their domestic altar there. 
They had three children; for a daughter had been 
bom to them in the previous September. Like 
George, she was as American as her father could 
make her. *'I have taken the liberty of naming her 
Virginia," he wrote General Washington. Benjamin 
Franklin, to whom he also announced the new ar- 
rival, hoped he would have children enough to name 
one after each state of the Union. 

In May, also, something happened which must 
have pleased Lafayette deeply. He was given the 
Cross of Saint-Louis, the military decoration his fath- 
er had worn; and the man who received him into 
the order was his father-in-law, the Due d'Ayen, who 
had so bitterly opposed his going to America. 

With large estates in the country, a new house in 
town, a list of acquaintances which included every- 
body worth knowing in Paris and more notables in 
foreign countries than even he could write to or 
receive letters from, and a keen interest in the poli- 
tics, philanthropy, and commerce of two hemi- 
spheres, he might have passed for a busy man. Yet 
he found time for an entirely new enthusiasm. A 
German doctor named Mesmer had made what he 
believed to be important discoveries in a new force 
and a new mode of healing, called animal mag- 
netism. Lafayette enrolled himself as a pupil. 'T 
know as much as ever a sorcerer knew!" he wrote 

176 



*THE WINE OF HONOR" 

enthusiastically to Washington. On paying his ini- 
tiation fee of a hundred golden louis he had signed 
a paper promising not to reveal these secrets to any 
prince, community, government, or individual with- 
out Mesmer's written consent, but the disciple was 
eager to impart his knowledge to his great friend 
and hoped to gain permission. Louis XVI was 
satirical. ''What will Washington think when he 
learns that you have become first apothecary boy to 
Mesmer?" he asked. 

Lafayette was planning a visit to America and 
sent a message to Mrs. Washington that he hoped 
''soon to thank her for a dish of tea at Mount 
Vernon." "Yes, my dear General, before the 
month of June is over you will see a vessel coming 
up the Potomac, and out of that vessel will your 
friend jump, with a panting heart and all the feelings 
of perfect happiness." He did indeed make the 
visit during the summer of 1784, though a few weeks 
later than June. Whether they had time during his 
ten days at Mount Vernon to talk about Mesmer 
history does not state. The hours must have been 
short for all the things clamoring to be said. Then 
Lafayette made a tour that carried him to Ports- 
mouth, New Hampshire, as far west as Fort Schuyler, 
for another treaty-making powwow with his red 
brothers the Indians, and south to Yorktown. 
Everywhere bells pealed and balls and dinners were 
given. Before he turned his face toward France he 
had a few more quiet days at Mount Vernon with 
Washington, who accompanied him on his homeward 
way as far as Annapolis. At parting the elder man 

177 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

gave him a tender letter for Adrienne, and on the 
way back to Mount Vernon wrote the words of fare- 
well which proved prophetic: **I have often asked 
myself, since otir carriages separated, whether that 
was the last sight I ever should have of you; and 
though I wished to say No, my fears answered 
Yes." 

Washington lived fourteen years longer; but in the 
mean time the storm of the French Revolution broke 
and everything that had seemed endtuing in Lafay- 
ette's life was wrecked. Until that storm burst 
letters and invitations and presents flashed across the 
see as freely as though propelled by Mesmer's magic 
fluid. Mrs. Washington sent succulent Virginia 
hams to figure at dinners given by the Laf ayettes in 
Paris. A picture of the household in the rue de 
Bourbon has come down to us written by a young 
officer to his mother: 

'*I seemed to be in America rather than in Paris. 
Numbers of English and Americans were present, 
for he speaks English as he does French. He has 
an American Indian in native costume for a footman. 
This savage calls him only 'father.' Everything is 
simple in his home. Marmontel and the Abb6 
Morrolet were dinner guests. Even the little girls 
spoke English as well as French, though they are 
very small. They played in English, and laughed 
with the Americans. This would have made charm- 
ing subjects for English engravings." 

Lafayette on his part sent many things to that 
house on the banks of the Potomac. He sent his 
friends, and a letter from him was an infallible open 

178 



"THE WINE OF HONOR" 

sesame. He sent his own accounts of journeys and 
interviews. He sent animals and plants that he 
thought would interest Washington, the farmer. 
Asses, for example, which were hard to get in Amer- 
ica, and rare varieties of seeds. In time he sent 
the key of the Bastille. But that, as romancers 
say, is ''another story,'* and opens another chapter 
in Lafayette's life. 



XX 

THE PASSING OF OLD FRANCE 

E". FAYETTE took his business of being a soldier 
seriously, and in the summer of 1785 made 
another journey, this time in the interest of his 
military education. Frederick II, King of Prussia, 
was still living. Lafayette obtained permission to 
attend the maneuvers of his army, counting himself 
fortunate to receive lessons in strategy from this 
greatest warrior of his time. He was not surprised 
to find the old monarch bent and rheumatic, with 
fingers twisted with gout, and head pulled over on 
one side until it almost rested on his shoulder ; or to 
see that his blue uniform with red facings was dirty 
and sprinkled with snuff. But he was astonished 
to discover that the eyes in Frederick's emaciated 
old face were strangely beautiful and lighted up his 
countenance at times with an expression of the ut- 
most sweetness. It was not often that they trans- 
formed him thus from an untidy old man to an angel 
of benevolence. Usually they were keen, sometimes 
mockingly malicious. 

It was certainly not without malice that he seated 
the young French general at his table between two 

180 



THE PASSING OF OLD FRANCE 

other guests, Lord Comv/allis and the Duke of 
York; and in the course of long dinners amused 
himself by asking Lafayette questions about Wash- 
ington and the American campaigns. Lafayette 
answered with his customary ardor, singing praises 
of his general and even venturing to praise repub- 
licanism in a manner that irritated the old monarch. 

''Monsieur!" Frederick interrupted him in such a 
flight. ''I once knew a young man who visited 
countries where liberty and equality reigned. After 
he got home he took it into his head to establish 
them in his own country. Do you know what 
happened?'* 

"No, Sire." 

**He was hanged!'* the old man replied, with a 
sardonic grin. It was plain he liked Lafayette or 
he would not have troubled to give him the warning. 

Lafayette continued his journey to Prague and 
Vienna and Dresden, where he saw other soldiers put 
through their drill. Then he returned to Potsdam 
for the final grand maneuvers under the personal 
direction of Frederick, but a sudden acute attack of 
gout racked his kingly old bones, and the exercises 
which, in his clockwork military system, could no 
more be postponed than the movements of the plan- 
ets, were carried out by the heir apparent, to Lafay- 
ette's great disappointment. He wrote Washington 
that the prince was ''a good officer, an honest fellow, 
a man of sense," but that he would never have the 
talent of his two uncles. As for the Prussian army, 
it was a w^onderful machine, but *'if the resources of 
France, the vivacity of her soldiers, the intelligence 
13 i8i 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

of her officers, the national ambition and moral 
delicacy were applied to a system worked out with 
equal skill, we would as far excel the Prussians as our 
army is now inferior to theirs— which is saying a 
great deal!" 

Vive la France! Viveni moral distinctions! He 
may not have realized it, but Lafayette was all his 
life more interested in justice than in war. 

Almost from the hour of his last return from 
America the injustice with which French Protestants 
were treated filled him with indignation. Though 
not openly persecuted, they were entirely at the 
mercy of official caprice. Legally their marriages 
were not valid; they could not make wills; their 
rights as citizens were attacked on every side. To 
use Lafayette's expression, they were ** stricken with 
civil death." He became their champion. 

Everybody knew that very radical theories had 
been applauded in France for many years, even by 
the men who condemned them officially. Dislike of 
hberal actions, however, was still strong, as Lafay- 
ette found when he attempted to help these people. 
His interest in them was treated as an amiable 
weakness which might be overlooked in view of his 
many good qualities, but should on no account be 
encouraged. **It is a work which requires time and 
is not without some inconvenience to me, because 
nobody is willing to give me one word of writing or 
to uphold me in any way. I must run my chance," 
he wrote Washington. He did, however, get per- 
mission from one of the king's ministers to go to 
Languedoc, where Protestants were numerous, in 

182 



THE PASSING OF OLD FRANCE 

order to study their condition and know just what 
it was he advocated. Evidence that he gathered 
thus at first hand he used officially two years later 
before the Assembly of Notables. So his champion- 
ship of the French Protestants marks the beginning 
of this new chapter in Lafayette's life, his entrance 
into French politics. 

Outwardly the condition of the country remained 
much as it had been; but discontent had made 
rapid progress during the years of Lafayette's stay 
in America. An answer attributed to the old 
Marechal de Richelieu sums up the change. The 
old reprobate had been ill and Louis XVI, with good 
intentions, but clumsy cruelty, congratulated him on 
his recovery. *'For," said the king, ''you are not 
young. You have seen three ages." "Rather," 
growled the duke, "three reigns!" "Well, what do 
you think of them.^" "Sire, under Louis XIV 
nobody dared say a word; under Louis XV they 
spoke in whispers; under your Majesty they speak 
loudly." 

This education in discontent had proceeded under 
three teachers: extravagance, hunger, and the suc- 
cess of America's war of independence. Louis really 
desired to see his people happy and prosperous. He 
had made an attempt at reforms, early in his reign, 
but, having neither a strong will nor a strong mind, 
it speedily lapsed. Even imder his own eyes at 
Versailles many abuses continued, merely because 
they had become part of the cumbersome cotut 
etiquette which Frederick II had condemned back 
in the days of Louis's grandfather. Many other 

183 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

abuses had increased without even the pretense 
of reforming them. There was increased personal 
extravagance among the well-to-do; increased ex- 
tortion elsewhere. Tax-collectors were still going 
about shutting their eyes to the wealth of men who 
had influence and judging the peasants as coldly as 
they would judge cattle. In one district they were 
fat ; they must pay a heavier tax. Chicken feathers 
were blowing about on the ground? That meant 
the people had poultry to eat; the screw could be 
given another vigorous turn. Among all classes 
there seemed to be less and less money to spend. 
With the exception of a few bankers and merchants, 
everybody from the king down felt poor. The 
peasants felt hungry. The poor in cities actually 
were very hungry; almost all the nobles were 
deeply in debt. In short, the forces for good and 
ill which had already honeycombed the kingdom 
when Lafayette was a boy had continued their work, 
gnawing upward and downward and through the 
social fabric until only a very thin and brittle shell 
remained. And, as the Marechal de Richelieu 
pointedly reminded his weak king, people were no 
longer afraid to talk aloud about these things. 

The success of the Revolution in America had done 
much to remove the ban of silence. Loans made by 
France had added to the scarcity of money; and it 
was these loans which had brought America success. 
The people across the ocean had wiped the slate 
clean and begun afresh. Why not follow their 
example? In the winter of 1782, when Paris was 
suffering from the Russian influenza, a lady with a 

184 



THE PASSING OF OLD FRANCE 

clever tongue and the eye of a prophet had said, "We 
are threatened with another malady which will 
come from America — the Independenzar' Thought- 
ful people were beginning to believe that a change 
was only a matter of time; but that it would come 
slowly and stretch over many years. 

Meanwhile the months passed and the glittering 
outer shell of the old order of things continued to 
gHtter. Lafayette divided his time between Paris, 
the court, and Chavaniac. He made at least one 
journey in the brilliant retinue of the king. He 
dined and gave dinners. He did everything in his 
power to increase commerce with the United States. 
He took part in every public movement for reform, 
and instituted small private ones of his own. One of 
these was to ask the king to revoke a pension of 
seven hundred and eighty livres that had been 
granted him when he was a mere baby, and to divide 
it between a retired old infantry officer and a worthy 
wddow of Auvergne. Incidentally people seemed to 
like him in spite of his republicanism. It was no 
secret to any one that he had come home from 
America a thorough believer in popular government. 
His fame was by no means confined to France and 
the lands lying to the west of it. Catherine II of 
Russia became curious to see this much-talked-of 
person and invited him to St. Petersburg. Learning 
that she was soon to start for the Crimea, he asked 
leave to pay his respects to her there; but that was 
a journey he never made. Before he could set out 
Louis XVI called a meeting of the Assembly of 
Notables, to take place on February 22, 1787. 

185 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

This was in no true sense a parliament ; only a body 
of one hundred and forty-four men who held no 
offices at court, selected arbitrarily by the king to 
discuss such subjects as he chose to set before it. 
The subject was to be taxation, how to raise money 
for government expenses, a burning question with 
every one. 

Deliberative assemblies were no new thing in 
France. Several times in long-past history a king 
had called together representative men of the nobles, 
the clergy, and even of the common people, to con- 
sider questions of state and help bring about needed 
reforms. Such gatherings were known as States 
General. But they had belonged to a time before 
the kings were quite sure of their power, and it was 
one hundred and seventy years since the last one had 
been called. Little by little, in the mean time, even 
the provincial parliaments, of which there were 
several in different parts of France, had been sapped 
of strength and vitality. There was a tendency now 
to revive them. Lafayette had stopped in Rennes 
on his way home from Brest after his last trip across 
the Atlantic, to attend such a gathering in Brittany, 
where he owned estates, his mother having been a 
Breton. Favoring representative government as he 
did, he was anxious to see such assemblages meet 
frequently at regular intervals. 

The call for the Assembly of Notables had come 
about in an unexpected way. Some years before, the 
Minister of Finance, Necker, had printed a sort of 
treasurer's report showing how public funds had 
been spent. This was a great novelty, such ques- 

i86 



THE PASSING OF OLD FRANCE 

tions having been shrouded in deepest mystery. 
Everybody who could read read Necker's report. 
It was seen on the dressing-tables of ladies and 
sticking out of the pockets of priests. Necker had 
meant it to pave the way for reforms, because he 
believed in cutting down expenses instead of imposing 
more taxes. It roused such a storm of discussion 
and criticism that he was driven from the Cabinet; 
after which his successor, M. Calonne, ''a veritable 
Cagliostro of finance,'* managed to juggle for four 
years with facts and figures before the inevitable 
day of reckoning came. This left the country much 
worse off than it had been when he took office; so 
badly off, in fact, that the king called together the 
Assembly of Notables. 

By an odd coincidence it held its first meeting at 
Versailles on a date forever linked in American 
minds with ideas of popular liberty — the 2 2d of 
February. For practical work, it was divided into 
seven sections or committees, each one of which was 
presided over by a royal prince. If the intention 
had been to check liberal tendencies among its 
members, the effort was vain. The spirit of inde- 
pendence was in it, and it refused to solve the king's 
financial riddles for him. 

From the beginning Lafayette took an active and 
much more radical part than some of his friends 
wished. He worked in behalf of the French Protes- 
tants. He wanted to reform criminal law; to give 
France a jury system such as England had; and he 
advocated putting a stop to the abuses of lettres de 
cachet. He was very plain-spoken in favor of cutting 

187 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

down expenses, particularly in the king's own mili- 
tary establishment, in pensions granted to members 
of the royal family, and in the matter of keeping up 
the palaces and pleasure-places that former mon- 
archs had loved, but which Louis XVI never visited. 
He believed in taxing lands and property belonging 
to the clergy, which had not as yet been taxed at all. 
He wanted the nobility to pay their full share, too, 
and he thought a treasurer's report should be pub- 
lished every year. Indeed, he wanted reports 
printed about all departments of government except 
that of Foreign Affairs. 

This was worse than amiable weakness, it was 
rank republicanism; the more dangerous because, as 
one of the ministers said, **all his logic is in action." 
The queen, who had never more than half liked him, 
began to distrust him. Calonne, who was about to 
leave the treasury in such a muddle, declared that he 
ought to be shut up in the Bastille; and a remark 
that Lafayette was overheard to make one day when 
the education of the dauphin was under discussion 
did not add to his popularity with the court party. 
"I think," he said, "that the prince will do well to 
begin his study of French history with the year 

1787-" 

One day he had the hardihood to raise his voice 
and say, "I appeal to the king to convene a national 
assembly." There was a hush of astonishment and 
of something very like fear. "What!" cried a 
younger brother of the king, the Comte d'Artois, 
who presided over the section of which Lafayette 
was a member. "You demand the convocation of 



THE PASSING OF OLD FRANCE 

the States General?'* ** Yes, Sire.** *'You wish to go 
on record ? To have me say to the king that M. de 
Lafayette has made a motion to convene the States 
General?'* "Yes, Monseigneur — and better than 
that!" by which Lafayette meant he hoped such an 
assembly might be made more truly representative 
than ever before. 

That Lafayette realized the personal consequences 
of his plain speaking there is no doubt. He wrote to 
Washington, *'The king and his family, as well as 
the notables who surround him, with the exception 
of a few friends, do not pardon the liberties I have 
taken or the success I have gained with other classes 
of society." If he cherished any illusions, they 
were dispelled a few months later when he received 
a request from the king to give up his commission 
as major-general. 

As for his appeal for a meeting of the States Gen- 
eral, nobody possessed the hardihood to sign it with 
him, and it had no immediate consequences. Before 
the Assembly of Notables adjourned it advised the 
king to authorize legislative assemblies in the 
provinces, which he did, Lafayette being one of the 
five men named by the monarch to represent the 
nobility in his province of Auvergne. At the ses- 
sions of this provincial assembly he further displeased 
the members of his own class, but the common people 
crowded about and applauded him wherever he went. 
*'He was the first hero they had seen, and they were 
never tired of looking at him,** a local chronicler 
states, with disarming frankness. 

The situation grew worse instead of better. The 

189 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

country's debt increased daily. The Assembly of 
Notables held another session; but it was only to 
arrange details for the meeting of the States General 
which the king had at last been forced to call. It 
was to meet in May, 1789, and was to be made up, 
as the other had been, of nobles, clergy, and more 
htmible folk, called the bourgeoisie, or the Third 
Estate. But there was one immense difference. 
Instead of being appointed by the king, these were 
to be real representatives, nobles elected by the 
nobles, clergy by the clergy, and the common people 
expressing their own choice. In addition, people of 
all classes were invited to draw up cahiers — that is, 
statements in writing showing the kind of reforms 
they desired. 

The nobles and clergy held small meetings and 
elected delegates from among their own number. 
The Third Estate elected men of the upper middle 
class, or nobles of liberal views. Lafayette found 
considerable opposition among the nobles of Au- 
vergne, but the common people begged him to repre- 
sent them, promising to give him their unanimous 
vote if he would do so. He preferred, however, to 
make the fight in his own order and was successful, 
taking his seat, when the States General convened, 
as a representative of the nobility of Auvergne. 



XXI 

THE TRICOLOR 

WHEN the representatives of the people of 
France, to the number of more than twelve 
hundred, came together in a great hall in the 
palace at Versailles on the 5th of May, 1789, the king 
opened the session, with the queen and royal princes 
beside him on a throne gorgeous with purple and 
gold. Immediately in front of him sat his ministers, 
and in other parts of the hall were the three orders 
in separate groups. The nobles were brilliant in 
ruffles and plumes. The Third Estate was sober 
enough in dress, but there were six hundred of them; 
twice as many in proportion as had ever been allowed 
in a similar gathering. Most of them were lawyers; 
only forty belonged to the farming class. In the 
group of clergy some wore the flaming scarlet robes 
of cardinals, some the plain cassocks of village 
priests; and events proved that these last were 
brothers in spirit with the six hundred. The gal- 
leries were crowded with ladies and coiurtiers and 
envoys from distant lands. Even roofs of neigh- 
boring houses were covered with spectators bent on 
seeing all they could. 

191 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

The queen looked anxious. She had no fondness 
for reforms ; but of the two upon the throne she had 
the stronger character and was therefore the better 
king. She was brave, quick to decide, and daring to 
execute. Unfortunately she was also narrow-minded 
and had little sympathy with the common people. 
Louis had already proved himself a complete failure 
as a ruler. He was a good husband, a lover of hunt- 
ing, and a passable locksmith. It was a bit of tragic 
irony that his hobby should have been the making 
of little, smoothly turning locks. After his one 
attempt at reform he had not even tried to govern, 
but spent his days in meaningless detail, while the 
country drifted toward ruin. 

Necker, who was once more in charge of the treas- 
ury, meant to keep the States General very busy with 
the duty for which they had been convened, that of 
providing money. But if the Notables had been 
refractory, this assembly was downright rebellious. 
A quarrel developed at the very outset about the 
manner of voting. In previous States General the 
three orders had held their meetings separately, and 
in final decisions each order had cast only one vote. 
The nobles and clergy could be counted on to vote 
the same way, which gave them a safe majority of 
two to one. Expecting the rule to hold this time, 
very little objection had been raised to the proposal 
that the Third Estate elect six hundred representa- 
tives instead of three hundred. The people Hked it 
and it meant nothing at all. Now that the six 
hundred had been elected, however, they contended 
that the three orders must sit in one assembly and 

192 



THE TRICOLOR 

that each man's vote be counted separately, which 
made all the difference in the world. A few liberals 
among the nobles and more than a few of the clergy 
in simple cassocks appeared to agree with them. 
The quarrel continued for six weeks, and meanwhile 
neither party was able to do any work. 

At the end of that time the number favoring the 
new way of voting had increased. These declared 
themselves to be the National Assembly of France 
and that they meant to begin the work of ''national 
regeneration" at once, whether the others joined 
them or not. Reforms were to be along lines indi- 
cated in the cahiers, or written statements of griev- 
ances, that voters had been urged to draw up at the 
time of the election. Tens of thousands of these had 
been received, some written in the polished phrases 
of courtiers, some in the earnest, ill-chosen words of 
peasants. All expressed loyalty to, the king; and 
almost all demanded a constitution to define the 
rights of people and king alike. Among other things 
they asked that lettres de cachet be abolished; that 
the people be allowed liberty of speech; that the 
States General meet at regular intervals; and that 
each of the three orders pay its just share of the 
taxes. 

Soon after the liberals declared their intention of 
going to work they found the great hall at Versailles 
closed and were told curtly that it was being pre- 
pared for a royal session. They retired to a near- 
by tennis-court, Hfted the senior representative from 
Paris, an astronomer named Bailly, to a table, 
elected him president of their National Assembly,' 

193 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

and took an oath not to disband until they had given 
France a constitution. A few days later the king 
summoned all the members of the States General to 
the great hall, scolded them for their recent acts in 
a speech written by somebody else, commanded that 
each order meet in future by itself, and left the hall 
to the sound of trumpets and martial music. The 
clergy and the nobles obediently withdrew. The 
Third Estate and a few liberals from the other orders 
remained. The king's master of ceremonies, a very 
important personage indeed, came forward and re- 
peated the king's order. Soldiers could be seen 
behind him. There was a moment's silence; then 
Mirabeau, a homely, brilliant nobleman from the 
south of France, who had been rejected by his own 
order, but elected by the Third Estate, advanced 
impetuously toward the master of ceremonies, cry- 
ing, in a loud voice, "Go tell your master that we 
are here by the will of the people, and that we shall 
not leave except at the point of the bayonet." Next 
he turned to the Assembly and made a motion to the 
effect that persons laying hands upon any member of 
the Assembly would be considered ''infamous and 
traitors to the nation — guilty of capital crime. ' * The 
master of ceremonies withdrew and reported the 
scene to the king. Louis, weak as water, said: 
*'They wish to remain? Let them." And they did 
remain, to his undoing. 

Lafayette was in an embarrassing position. He 
sympathized with the Third Estate, yet he had been 
elected to represent the nobles, and his commission 
bound him to vote according to their wishes. He 

194 




THE BASTILLE 

From a contemporary print 




SIEGE OF THE BASTILLE 



THE TRICOLOR 

considered resigning in order to appeal again to the 
voters of Auvergne; but before he came to a de- 
cision the king asked the nobles and clergy to give 
up their evidently futile opposition. Lafayette took 
his place with the others in the National Assembly, 
but refrained for a time from voting. The king and 
his ministers seemed to have no settled poHcy. One 
day they tried to please the Third Estate ; on another 
it was learned that batteries were being placed where 
they could fire upon the Assembly and that regi- 
ments were being concentrated upon Paris. It was 
upon a motion of Mirabeau*s for the removal of 
these threatening soldiers that Lafayette broke his 
silence and began to take part again in the pro- 
ceedings of the Assembly. 

On the nth of July, about a fortnight after the 
nobles and clergy had resumed their seats, he pre- 
sented to the Assembly his Declaration of Rights, 
modeled upon the American Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, to be placed at the head of the French 
Constitution. Two days later he was elected vice- 
president of the Assembly '*with acclamations." 
Toward evening of the 14th the Vicomte de Noailles 
came from Paris with the startling news that people 
had been fighting in the streets for hours; that they 
had gained possession of the Bastille, the gray old 
prison which stood in their eyes for all that was hate- 
ful in the old regime; that its commander and 
several of its defenders had been mtirdered ; and that 
their heads were being carried aloft on pikes among 
the crowds. 

On the 15 th the king came with his brothers to the 
19s 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Assembly and made a conciliatory speech, after 
which Lafayette hurried away to Paris at the head 
of a delegation charged with the task of quieting the 
city. They were met at the Tuileries gate and 
escorted to the Hdtel de Ville, where the City Council 
of Paris, a parliament in miniature, held its meetings. 
Lafayette congratulated the city on the liberty it 
had won, delivered the king's message, and turned 
to go. As he was leaving the room somebody cried 
out saying that here was the man Paris wanted to 
command its National Guard, and that Bailly, who 
accompanied him, ought to be mayor. It was one 
of those sudden ideas that seem to spread like 
wildfire. Lafayette stopped, drew his sword, and, 
acting upon that first impulse which he was so 
apt to follow, swore then and there to defend the 
liberty of Paris with his life if need be. He sent a 
message to the National Assembly asking permis- 
sion to assume the new office, and on the 25 th took, 
with Bailly, a more formal oath. The force of 
militia which he organized and developed became the 
famous National Guard of Paris; while this govern- 
ing body at the H6tel de Ville which had so informally 
elected him, enlarged and changing from time to time 
as the Revolution swept on, became the famous, 
and infamous, "Commune." Lafayette himself, not 
many days after he assumed the new office, ordered 
the destruction of the old Bastille. One of its keys 
he sent to Washington at Mount Vernon. Another 
was made into a sword and presented by his admirers 
to the man whose orders had reduced the old prison 
to a heap of stones. 

196 



THE TRICOLOR 

The court party was aghast. The Comte d'Artois 
and two of his friends shook the dust of their native 
land from their feet and left France, the first of that 
long army of emigres whose flight still further sapped 
the waning power of the king. Louis was of one 
mind one day, another the next. Against the 
entreaties and tears of the queen he accepted an 
invitation to visit Paris and was received, as Lafay- 
ette had been, with cheers. He made a speech, 
ratifying and accepting all the changes that had 
taken place; and to celebrate this apparent recon- 
ciliation between the monarch and his subjects 
Lafayette added the white of the flag of the king to 
red and blue, the colors of the city of Paris, making 
the Tricolor. Up to that time the badge of revolu- 
tion had been green, because Camille Desmoulins, 
one of its early orators, had given his followers 
chestnut leaves to pin upon their caps. But the 
livery of the Comte d'Artois, now so hated, was 
green, and the people threw av/ay their green 
cockades and enthusiastically donned the red, white, 
and blue, echoing Lafayette's prediction that it 
would soon make the round of Europe. 

The passions which had moved the city of Paris 
spread outward through the provinces as waves 
spread when a stone is cast into a pool. One town 
after another set up a municipal government and 
established national guards of its own. Peasants in 
country districts began assaulting tax-collectors, . 
hanging millers on the charge that they were raising 
the price of bread, and btuning and looting chateaux 
in their hunt for old records of debts and judgments 
14 ^97 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

against the common people. July closed in a veil 
of smoke ascending from such fires in all parts of the 
realm. 

All day long on the 4th of August the Assembly 
listened to reports of these events, a dismaying 
recital that went on and on until darkness fell and 
the candles were brought in. About eight o'clock, 
when the session seemed nearing its end, De Noailles 
mounted the platform and began to speak. He 
said that there was good reason for these fires and 
the hate they disclosed. The chateaux were sym- 
bols of that kind of unjust feudal government which 
was no longer to be tolerated. He moved that the 
Assembly abolish feudalism. His motion was sec- 
onded by the Due d'Aiguillon, the greatest feudal 
noble in France, with the one exception of the king. 
The words of these two aristocrats kindled another 
sort of fire — an emotional fire like that of a great 
religious revival. Noble after noble seemed impelled 
to mount the platform and renounce his special 
privileges. Priests and prelates followed their ex- 
ample. So did representatives of towns and prov- 
inces. The hours of the day had passed in increasing 
gloom; the night went by in this crescendo of gener- 
osity. By morning thirty or more decrees had been 
passed and feudalism was dead, so far as law could 
kill it. 

The awakening from this orgy of feeling was like 
the awakening from any other form of emotional 
excess. With it came the knowledge that neither 
the world nor human nature can be changed over- 
night. When the news went abroad there were 

198 



THE TRICOLOR 

many who interpreted as license what had been 
given them for hberty. Forests were cut down. 
Game-preserves were invaded and animals slaugh- 
tered. Artisans found themselves out of work and 
hungrier than ever because of the economy now 
necessarily practised by the nobility. Such mighty 
reforms required time and the readjustment of al- 
most every detail of daily life. Even before experi- 
ence made this manifest the delegates began to realize 
that towns and bishoprics and provinces might 
refuse to ratify the impulsive acts of their representa- 
tives; and some of the nobles who had spoken for 
themselves alone did not feel as unselfish in the cold 
light of day as they had believed themselves to be 
while the candles glowed during that strange night 
session. The final result was to bring out differences 
of opinion more sharply and to widen the gulf be- 
tween conservatives who clung to everything which 
belonged to the past and liberals whose desire was 
to give the people all that had been gained and 
even more. 



XXII 

THE SANS-CULOTTES 

LAFAYETTE'S position as commander of the Na- 
-^ tional Guard of Paris was one of great im- 
portance. *'He rendered the Revolution possible by 
giving it an army," says a writer of his own nation, 
who does not hesitate to criticize him, but who also 
assures us that from July, 1789, to July, 1790, he was 
perhaps the most popular man in France. Being a 
bom optimist, he was sure that right would soon pre- 
vail. If he had too great belief in his own leadership 
it is not surprising, since every previous undertaking 
of his life had succeeded; and he certainly had more 
experience in revolution than any of his countrymen 
— an experience gained in America under the direct 
influence of Washington. He had gone to America 
a boy afire with enthusiasm for liberty. He returned 
to France a man, popular and successftd, with his 
belief in himself and his principles greatly strength- 
ened. He was impulsive and generous, he had a 
good mind, but he was not a deep thinker, and from 
the very nature of his mind it was impossible for him 
to foresee the full difficulty of applying in France the 
principles that had been so successful in America. 

200 



THE SANS-CULOTTES 

In France politics were much more complicated 
than in a new country where there were fewer 
abuses to correct. France was old and abuses had 
been multiplying for a thousand years. To borrow 
the surgeon's phrase, the wound made by revolution 
in America was a clean wound that healed quickly, 
"by the first intention." In France the wound was 
far more serious and horribly infected. It healed in 
time, but only after a desperate illness. 

It is interesting that three of Lafayette's most in- 
fluential American friends, Washington, Jefferson, 
and Gouvemeur Morris, had misgivings from the 
first about the situation in France, fearing that a 
revolution could not take place there without grave 
disorders and that Lafayette could not personally 
ride such a storm. Morris, who was then in Paris, 
urged caution upon him and advised him to keep the 
power in the hands of the nobility. When Lafayette 
asked him to read and criticize his draft of The 
Declaration of Rights before it was presented to the 
Assembly, Morris suggested several changes to 
make it more moderate; *'for," said this American, 
** revolutions are not won by sonorous phrases." 

Although keen for reform and liking to dress it in 
sonorous phrases, Lafayette had no wish to be rid 
of the king. He did not expect to have a president 
in France or the exact kind of government that had 
been adopted in the United States. "Lafayette 
was neither republican nor royalist, but always held 
that view half-way between the two which theorists 
call a constitutional monarchy," says a French 
writer. "In all his speeches from 1787 to 1792 he 

501 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

rarely used the woni * liberty' without coupling it 
with some word expressing law and order." 

Events proved that he was too thoroughly a 
believer in order to please either side. One party 
accused him of favoring the aristocrats, the other of 
sacrificing everything for the applause of the mob. 
What he tried to do was to stand firm in the rush of 
events, which was at first so exhilarating and later 
changed to such an appalling sweep of the furies. 
If he had been less scrupulous and more selfish he 
might have played a greater role in the Revolution 
— ^have risen to grander heights or failed more 
abjectly— but for a time he would have really guided 
the stormy course of events. As it was, events 
overtook him, carried him with them, then tossed 
him aside and passed him by. Yet even so he man- 
aged for three years to dominate that tiger mob of 
Paris *'more by persuasion than by force.'* This 
proves that he was no weakling. Jefferson called 
him **the Atlas of the Revolution." 

There was opposition to him from the first. Mira- 
beau and Lafayette could never work whole- 
heartedly together, which was a pity, for with Mira- 
beau's eloquence to carry the National Assembly 
and Lafayette's popularity with the National Guard 
they could have done much. The cafes, those 
people's institutes of his young days, speedily de- 
veloped into poHtical clubs of varying shades of 
opinion, most of which grew more radical hourly. 
Marie Antoinette continued to be resentful and 
bitter and did all in her power to thwart reform and 
to influence the king. In addition to parties openly 

202 



THE SANS-CULOTTES 

for and against the new order of things there were 
individuals, both in high and low places, who strove 
to spread disorder by iinderhand means and to 
use it for selfish ends. One was the powerful Due 
d'Orleans, cousin of the king, very rich and very 
unprincipled, whose secret desire was to supplant 
Louis upon the throne. He used his fortune to 
spread discontent through the Paris mob dining the 
long cold winter, when half the inhabitants of the 
town went hungry. His agents talked of famine, 
complained of delay in making the Constitution, 
and gave large sums to the poor in ways that fed 
their worst passions, while supplying their very real 
need for bread. 

Even after the lapse of one hundred and thirty 
years it is uncertain just how much of a part he 
played in the stormy happenings of the early days of 
October, 1789. On the night of the 2d of October 
the king and queen visited the hall at Versailles 
where the Garde du Corps, the royal bodyguard, 
was giving a banquet. The diners sprang to their 
feet and drank toasts more fervent than discreet. 
In the course of the next two days rumor spread to 
Paris that they had trampled upon the Tricolor and 
substituted the white of the Bourbons. Out of the 
garrets and slums of the city the mob boiled toward 
the H6tel de Ville, crying that a counter-revolution 
had been started and that the people were betrayed. 
Lafayette talked and harangued. On the 5th he 
held the crowds in check from nine o'clock in the 
morning until four, when he learned that a stream 
of malcontents, many of them women, had broken 

203 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

away and started for Versailles, muttering threats 
and dragging cannon with them. 

Lafayette had confessed to Gouvemeur Morris 
only a few days before that his National Guard was 
not as well disciplined as he could wish. Whether 
this was the reason or because he felt it necessary to 
get express permission from the H6tel de Ville, there 
was delay before he and his militia set out in ptusuit. 
He had sworn to use the Guard only to execute the 
will of the people. For what followed he has been 
severely blamed, while other witnesses contend just 
as hotly that he did all any commander could do. 
That night he saved the lives of several of the Garde 
du Corps; posted his men in the places from which 
the palace guard had been withdrawn by order of 
the king; made each side swear to keep the peace; 
gave his personal word to Louis that there would be 
no violence; saw that everything was quiet in the 
streets near the palace where the mob still bivou- 
acked; then, worn with twenty hours' incessant 
labor, went to the house of a friend for a little sleep. 

That sleep was the cause of more criticism than 
any act of his seventy-six years of life; for the mob, 
driven by an instinct for evil which seems strongest 
in crowds at dawn, hurled itself against the palace 
gates, killed the two men on guard before the queen's 
door, and forced its way into her bedchamber, 
from which she fled, half dressed, to take refuge with 
the king. Lafayette hiuried back with all possible 
haste; m.ade his way to the royal couple; addressed 
the crowd in the palace courtyard, telling them the 
king would show his trust by going back with them 

204 



THE SANS-CULOTTES 

voluntarily to take up his residence m Paris; and 
persuaded the queen to appear with him upon a bal- 
cony, where, in view of all the people, he knelt and 
kissed her hand. After that he led out one of the 
palace guard and presented him with a tricolored 
cockade; and, touched by these tableaux, the mob 
howled delight. Th^ "■ night, long after dark, the 
royal family entered the Tuileries, half monarchs, 
half prisoners. But discontent had been only partly 
appeased, and during the melancholy ride to the 
city Marie Antoinette gave the mob its watchword. 
Seeing a man in the dress of the very poor riding on 
the step of her coach she had remarked disdainfully 
that never before had a sans-culotte — a man mth- 
out knee-breeches — occupied so honorable a position. 
The speech was overheard and taken up and shouted 
through the crowd until ** sans-culotte" became a 
symbol of the Revolution. 

The events of that day proved that Lafayette had 
not the quality of a great leader of men. How much 
of his ill success was due to bad luck, how much to 
over-conscientiousness in fulfiUing the letter of his 
oath, how much to physical weariness, we may never 
know. The royal family believed he had saved their 
lives, and the vilest accusations against him, including 
the one that he really wished Louis to fall a victim 
of the mob, appear to have been manufactured 
twenty-five years later in the bitterness of another 
political struggle. It is significant that very soon 
after the king came to Paris Lafayette held a 
stormy interview with the Duo d' Orleans, who 
forthwith left France. 

205 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Since that melancholy ride back to Paris the rulers 
of France have never lived at Versailles. Within 
ten days the National Assembly followed the king 
to town, and during the whole remaining period of 
the Revolution the mob had the machinery of 
government in its keeping. It invaded the legisla- 
tive halls to listen to the making of the Constitution, 
it howled approval of speeches or drowned them in 
hisses, and called out from the windows reports to 
the crowds packing the streets below. 

Political clubs soon became the real censors of 
public opinion, taking an ever larger place in the life 
of the people, until, alas ! they began to take part in 
the death of many of them. The most influential 
club of all was the Jacobins, known by that name 
because of the disused monastery where it held its 
meetings. It began as an exclusive club of well-to- 
do gentlemen of all parties, who paid large dues and 
met to discuss questions of interest. Then it com- 
pletely changed its character, took into its organiza- 
tion other clubs in Paris and other cities, and by this 
means became a vast, nation-wide political machine 
of such iron discipline that it was said a decree of the 
Jacobins was better executed than any law passed 
by the National Assembly. When its decrees grew 
more radical its membership changed by the simple 
process of expelling conservative members, until 
Robespierre became its controlling spirit. Another 
club more radical still was the Cordelieres, in which 
Marat and Danton, those stormy petrels of the 
Terror, held sway. This smaller organization in- 
fluenced even the Jacobins and through them every 

206 



THE SANS-CULOTTES 

village in France. Several of the most radical 
leaders published newspapers of vast influence, like 
Marat's Ami du Peuple, which carried their opinions 
farther than the spoken word could do, out into 
peaceful country lanes. In the cities the great 
power of the theater was directed to the same vio- 
lent ends. In vain the more conservative patriots 
started clubs of their own; the others had too great 
headway. The Feuillants, that Lafayette and Bailly 
were instrumental in founding, was called contemptu- 
ously the club of the monarchists. All these changes 
were gradual, but little by little, as time passed, the 
aini6 of the revolutionists altered. What had been 
at first a cry for justice became an appeal for liberty, 
then a demand for equality, and finally a mad howl 
for revenge. 



XXIII 

POPULARITY AND PRISON 

SO many local National Guards and revolution- 
ary town governments had been formed that 
France was in danger of being split into a thousand 
self-governing fragments. Some of these came to- 
gether in local federations for mutual benefit; and 
as the anniversary of the fall of the Bastile rolled 
aroimd, Paris proposed a grand federation of all 
such organizations as a fitting way to celebrate the 
new national holiday. The idea caught popular 
fancy, and the city made ready for it with a feverish 
good will almost as strange as that of the memorable 
night when nobles and clergy in the National Assem- 
bly had vied with one another to give up their 
century-old privileges. 

The spot chosen for the ceremonies was the 
Champs de Mars, where the Eiffel Tower now stands. 
It is a deal nearer the center of Paris now than it was 
in 1790, when it was little more than a great field on 
the banks of the Seine, near the military academy. 
This was to be changed into an immense amphi- 
theater three miles in circumference, a work which 
required a vast amount of excavating and building 

2C8 



POPULARITY AND PRISON 

and civil engineering. Men and women of all classes 
of society volunteered as laborers, and from dawn 
till dark a procession, armed with spades and 
every implement that could possibly be used, passed 
ceaselessly between the heart of the city and the 
scene of the coming festivity. Eye-witnesses tell us 
that on arriving each person threw down his coat, 
his cravat, and his watch, '* abandoning them to the 
loyalty of the public " and fell to work. * 'A deHcate 
duchess might be seen filling a barrow to be trundled 
away by a fishwife"; or a chevalier of the Order of 
Saint-Louis laboring with a hurried, flustered little 
school-boy; or a priest and an actor doing excellent 
team-work together. A hundred orchestras were 
playing; workers quitted their labors for a few turns 
in the dance, then abandoned that again for toil. 

Lafayette encouraged them by his enthusiastic 
presence, and filled and trundled a barrow with his 
own hands ; and when the king appeared one day to 
view the strange scene he was greeted with extrava- 
gant joy. Though this went on for weeks, the 
undertaking was so vast and the best efforts of 
duchesses and school-boys so far from adequate, 
that a hurry call had to be sent out, in response to 
which it was estimated that during the last few days 
of preparation two hundred and fifty thousand 
people were busy there. Evil rumors were busy, 
too, under cover of the music, and whispers went 
through the crowd that no provisions were to be 
allowed to enter Paris during the entire week of 
festivities and that the field had been honeycombed 
with secret passages and laid with mines to blow up 

209 



THE BOYS* LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

the whole great throng. Such rumors were answered 
by a municipal proclamation which ended with the 
words, *' Cowards may flee these imaginary dangers: 
the friends of Revolution will remain, well knowing 
that not a second time shall such a day be seen." 

The miracle was accomplished. By the 14th of 
July the whole Champs de Mars had been trans- 
formed into an amphitheater of terraced greensward, 
approached through a great triumphal arch. But on 
the day itself not a single green terrace was visible, so 
thick were the masses of people crowding the amphi- 
theater and covering the hills on the other side of 
the river. Opposite the triumphal arch a central 
pavilion for the king, with covered galleries on each 
side, had been built against the walls of the military 
school. On the level green in the center of the great 
Champs de Mars stood an altar to "The Country," 
reached by a flight of fifty steps. One hundred 
cannon, two thousand musicians, and two hundred 
priests with the Tricolor added to their vestments, 
were present to take part in the ceremonies. A 
model of the destroyed Bastile lay at the foot of the 
altar. Upon the altar itself were inscriptions, one 
of which bade the spectators * Tender the three 
sacred words that guarantee our decrees. The 
Nation, the Law, the King. You are the Nation, 
the Law is your will, the King is the head of the 
Nation and guardian of the Law." 

The multitude was treated first to the spectacle of 
a grand procession streaming through the three 
openings of the triumphal arch. Deputies from the 
provinces, members of the National Assembly, and 

210 



POPULARITY AND PRISON 

representatives of the Paris Commune, with Mayor 
Bailly at their head, marched slowly and gravely to 
their places. After them came the visiting mihtary 
delegations, the Paris guards, and regular troops who 
had been called to Paris from all parts of the king- 
dom, to the number of forty thousand or more, each 
with its distinctive banner. These marched around 
the altar and broke into strange dances and mock 
combats, undeterred by heavy showers. When the 
rain fell the ranks of spectators blossomed into a 
mass of red and green umbrellas, no longer the 
novelty they once had been. When a shower passed 
umbrellas were furled and the crowd took on another 
color. At three o'clock the queen appeared with 
the Dauphin beside her. Then the king, in magnif- 
icent robes of state, took his seat on a ptuple chair 
sown with fleurs-de-lis, which had been placed on an 
exact line and level with a similar chair upholstered 
in blue for the president of the National Assembly. 
The king had been named for that one day Su- 
preme Commander of all the National Guards of 
France. He had delegated his powers, whatever 
they may have been, to Lafayette; and it was Lafay- 
ette on a white horse such as Washington rode who 
was here, there, and ever3rwhere, the central figtue of 
the pageant as he moved about fulfilling the duties 
of his office. General Thiebault wrote in his Mem- 
oirs that the young buoyant figure on the shining 
horse, riding through that great mass of men, seemed 
to be commanding all France. "Look at him!'* 
cried an enthusiast. *'He is galloping through the 
centtuies!" And it was upon Lafayette, at the 

211 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

crowning moment of the ceremony, that all eyes 
rested. After the two hundred priests had solemnly 
marched to the altar and placed ahead of all other 
banners their sacred oriflamme of St.-Denis, Lafay- 
ette dismounted and approached the king to receive 
his orders. Then, slowly ascending the many steps 
to the altar, he laid his sword before it and, turning, 
faced the soldiers. Every arm was raised and every 
voice cried, ''I swear!" as he led them in their oath 
of loyalty; and as if in answer to the mighty shout, 
the sun burst at that instant through the storm- 
clouds. Music and artillery crashed in jubilant 
sound; other cannon at a distance took up the tale; 
and in this way news of the oath was borne to the 
utmost limits of France. The day ended with fire- 
works, dancing, and a great feast. Lafayette was 
the center of the cheers and adulation, admirers 
pressing upon him from all sides. He was even in 
danger of bodily harm from the embraces, "perfidious 
or sincere," of a group of unknown men who had to 
be forcibly driven away by his aides-de-camp. That 
night somebody hung his portrait upon the railing 
surrounding the statue of France's hero-king, Henri 
IV; an act of unwise enthusiasm or else of very 
clever malignity of which his critics made the most. 
After this, his enemies increased rapidly. The 
good will and harmony celebrated at the Feast of 
the Federation had been more apparent than real; 
a ** delicious intoxication," as one of the participants 
called it, and the ill-temper that follows intoxication 
soon manifested itself. The Jacobins grew daily 
more radical. The club did not expel Lafayette; 

212 / 



POPULARITY AND PRISON 

he left it of his own accord in December, 1790; but 
that was almost as good for the purposes of his 
critics. 

The task he had set himself of steering a middle 
course between extremes became constantly more 
difficult. Mirabeau was president of the Jacobin 
Club after Lafayette left it, and their mutual dis- 
trust increased. Gouvemeur Morris thought Lafay- 
ette able to hold his own and that "he was as shrewd 
as any one." He said that "Mirabeau has the 
greater talent, but his adversary the better reputa- 
tion." In spite of being president of the Jacobins, 
Mirabeau was more of a royalist than Lafayette and 
did what he could to ruin Lafayette with the court 
party. The quarrel ended only with Mirabeau 's 
sudden death in April, 1791. At the other extreme 
Marat attacked Lafayette for his devotion to the 
king, saying he had sold himself to that side. 
Newspapers circulated evil stories about his private 
life. Slanders and attacks, wax figures and cartoons, 
each a little worse than the last, flooded Paris at this 
time. Some coupled the queen's name with his, 
which increased her dislike of him, and in the end 
may have played its small part in her downfall. 

The king and queen were watched with lynxlike 
intensity by all parties, and about three months 
after Mirabeau's death they made matters much 
worse by betraying their fear, and what many 
thought their perfidy, in an attempt to escape in 
disguise, meaning to get help from outside countries 
and return to fight for their power. There had been 
rumors that they contemplated something of this 
15 213 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

sort, and Lafayette had gone frankly to the king, 
urging him not to commit such folly. The king 
reassured him, and Lafayette had announced that 
he was willing to answer ''with his head" that Louis 
would not leave Paris. One night, however, rtimors 
were so persistent that Lafayette went himself to the 
Tuileries. He talked with a member of the royal 
family, and the queen saw him when she was actually 
on her way to join the king for their flight. Luck 
and his usual cleverness both failed Lafayette that 
night. He suspected nothing, yet next morning it 
was discovered that the royal beds had not been slept 
in and that the fugitives were already hours on 
their way. Lafayette issued orders for their arrest, 
but clamor was loud against him and Danton was 
for making him pay literally with his head for 
his mistake. 

Almost at the frontier the king and queen were 
recognized through the likeness of Louis to his por- 
trait on the paper money that flooded the kingdom, 
and they were brought back to Paris, real prisoners 
this time. They passed on their way through silent 
crowds who eyed them with terrifying hostility. The 
queen, who was hysterical and bitter, insisted on 
treating Lafayette as her personal jailer. Louis, 
whatever his faults, had a sense of humor and smiled 
when Lafayette appeared *'to receive the orders of 
the king," saying it was evident that orders were to 
come from the other side. It is strange that he 
was not dethroned at once, for he had left behind 
him a paper agreeing to repeal every law that had 
been passed by the National Assembly. Dread of 

214 



POPULARITY AND PRISON 

civil war was still strong, however, even among the 
radicals, and he was only kept a prisoner in the 
Tuileries until September, when the new Constitu- 
tion was finished and ready for him to sign. After 
he swore to uphold it he was again accorded royal 
honors. 

But meantime there had been serious disturbances. 
Lafayette had felt it his duty to order the National 
Guard to fire upon the mob; and for that he was 
never forgiven. On that confused day an attempt 
was made upon his life. The culprit's gun missed 
fire, and when he was brought before Lafayette the 
latter promptly set him at Hberty; but before mid- 
night a mob surrounded Lafayette's house, crying 
that they had come to murder his wife and carry 
her head to the general. The garden wall had been 
scaled, and they were about to force an entrance 
when help arrived. 

After the Constitution became the law of the land, 
Lafayette followed Washington's example, resigned 
his miHtary commission, and retired to live at 
Chavaniac. Several times before when criticism was 
very bitter he had offered to give up his sword to 
the Commune, but there had been no one either 
willing or able to take his place and he had been 
persuaded to remain. Now he felt that he could 
withdraw with dignity and a clear conscience. In 
accepting his resignation the Commune voted him a 
medal of gold. The National Guard presented him 
with a sword whose blade was made from locks of 
the old Bastille, and on his 360-mile journey to 
Chavaniac he received civic crowns enough to fill his 

215 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

carriage. His reception at home was in keeping 
with all this. "Since you are superstitious," he 
wrote Washington, "I will tell you that I arrived 
here on the anniversary of the surrender of Com- 
wallis. " But even in far-away Chavaniac there were 
ugly rumors and threats against his life. The local 
guard volunteered to keep a special watch; an offer 
he declined with thanks. 

Bailly retired as mayor of Paris soon after this, 
whereupon Lafayette's friends put up his name as a 
candidate. The election went against him two to 
one in favor of Petion, a Jacobin, and from that time 
the clubs held undisputed sway. According to law 
the new Assembly had to be elected from men who 
had not served in the old one; this was unfortimate, 
since it deprived the new body of experienced legis- 
lators. The pronounced royalists in the Assembly 
had now dwindled to a scanty htmdred. 

Neighboring powers showed signs of coming to 
the aid of Louis, and the country did not choose to 
wait until foreign soldiers crossed its frontiers. No- 
body knew better than Lafayette how unprepared 
France was for war against a well-equipped enemy, 
but the marvels America had accomplished with 
scarcely any equipment were fresh in his memory, 
and he looked upon foreign war as a means of uniting 
quarreling factions at home — a dangerous sort of 
political back-fire, by no means new, but sometimes 
successful. Before December, 1791, three armies 
had been formed for protection. Lafayette was put 
in command of one of them, his friend Rochambeau 
of another, and the third was given to General 

216 



POPULARITY AND PRISON 

Luckner, a Bavarian who had served France faith- 
fully since the Seven Years' War, 

Lafayette's new commission bore the signature of 
the king. He hurried to Paris, thanked his sovereign, 
paid his respects to the Assembly, and departed for 
Metz on Christmas Day in a semblance of his old 
popularity, escorted to the city barriers by a throng 
of people and a detachment of the National Guard. 
He entered on his military duties with enthusiasm, 
besieging the Assembly with reports of all the army 
lacked, consulting with his co-commanders, and 
putting his men through stiff drill. 

By May war had been declared against Sardinia, 
Bohemia, and Hungary, but the back-fire against 
anarchy did not work. Troubles at home increased. 
The Paris mob became more lawless, and on the 
2oth of June, 1792, the Tuileries was invaded and 
the king was forced to don the red cap of Liberty; a 
serio-comic incident that might easily have become 
tragedy if Louis had possessed more spirit. Lafay- 
ette spoke the truth about this king when he said 
that he ''desired only comfort and tranquillity — 
beginning with his own." 

Feeling that his monarch had been insulted, La- 
fayette hurried off to Paris to use his influence 
against the Jacobins. He went without specific 
leave, though without being forbidden by General 
Luckner, his superior officer, who knew his plan. 
To his intense chagrin he found that he no longer 
had an atom of influence in Paris. The court 
received him coldly, the Assembly was completely 
in the hands of the Jacobins, timid people were too 

217 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

frightened to show their real feelings, and the Na- 
tional Guard, upon whose support Lafayette had con- 
fidently relied, was now in favor of doing away with 
kingship altogether. 

Lafayette could not succor people who refused to 
be helped, and he returned to the army, followed by 
loud accusations that he had been absent without 
leave and that he was "the greatest of criminals." 
''Strike Lafayette and the nation is saved!'* Robes- 
pierre had shouted, even before he appeared on his 
fruitless mission. *' Truly," wrote Gouvemeur Mor- 
ris, **I believe if Lafayette should come to Paris at 
this moment without his army he would be knifed. 
What, I pray you, is popularity?" 

In July Prussia joined the nations at war, threat- 
ening dire vengeance if Paris harmed even a hair of 
the king or queen. The mob clamorously paraded 
the streets, led by five hundred men from Marseilles, 
singing a new and strangely exciting song whose 
music and whose words, *'To arms! To arms! 
Strike down the tyrant!" were alike incendiary. 
In spite of his recent rebuff, Lafayette made one 
more attempt to rescue the king, not for love of 
Louis or of monarchy, but because he believed that 
Louis now stood for sane government, having signed 
the Constitution. It is doubtful whether the plan 
could have succeeded; it was one of Lafayette's 
generous dreams, based on very slight foimdation. 
He wanted to have himself and General Luckner 
called to Paris for the coming celebration of July 
14th. At that time, making no secret of it, the king 
should go with his generals before the Assembly and 

218 



POPULARITY AND PRISON 

announce his intention of spending a few days at 
Compiegne, as he had a perfect right to do. Once 
away from Paris and surrounded by the loyal troops 
the two generals would have taken care to bring 
with them, Louis could issue a proclamation for- 
bidding his brothers and other Emigres to continue 
their plans and could say that he was himself at the 
head of an army to resist foreign invasion; and, 
having taken the wind out of the sails of the Jacobins 
by this unexpected move, could return to Paris to 
be acclaimed by all moderate, peace-loving men. 

There were personal friends of the king w^ho urged 
him to try this as the one remaining possibility of 
safety. Others thought it might save Louis, but 
could not save the monarchy. The queen quoted 
words of Mirabeau's about Lafayette's ambition to 
keep the king a prisoner in his tent. ** Besides," she 
added, ''it would be too humiliating to owe our lives 
a second time to that man." So Lafayette was 
thanked for his interest and his help was refused. 
On the loth of August there was another invasion of 
the Tuileries, followed this time by the m^assacre of 
the Swiss Guard. The royal family, rescued from 
the palace, was kept for safety for three days in a 
little room behind the one in which the Assembly 
held its sessions; then it was lodged, under the 
cruel protection of the Commime, in the small me- 
dieval prison called the Temple, in the heart of Paris. 

With the Commune in full control, it was not long 
before an accusation was officially made against 
Lafayette. ''Evidence" to bear it out was speedily 
found; and on August 19th, less than ten days after 

219 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

the imprisonment of the king, the Assembly, at the 
bidding of the Commune, declared Lafayette a 
traitor. He knew he had nothing to hope from his 
own troops, for only a few days before this his pro- 
posal that they renew their oath of fidehty to the 
Nation, the Law, and the King had met with mur- 
murs of disapproval, until one young captain, 
making himself spokesman, had declared that 
Liberty, Equality, and the National Assembly were 
the only names to which the soldiers could pledge 
allegiance. 

Lafayette still had faith in the future, but the 
present offered only two alternatives — flight, or 
staying quietly where he was to be arrested and car- 
ried to Paris, where he would be put to death as 
surely as the sun rose in the east. This was what his 
Jacobin friends seemed to expect him to do, and they 
assailed him bitterly for taking the other course. 
He could not see that his death at this time and in 
this way would help the cause of civil liberty. He 
said that if he must die he preferred to perish at the 
hands of foreign tyrants rather than by those of his 
misguided fellow-countrymen. He placed his soldiers 
in the best position to offset any advantage the enemy 
might gain through his flight, and, with about a score 
of officers and friends, crossed the frontier into Liege 
on the night of August 20th, meaning to make his 
way to Holland and later to England. From Eng- 
land, in case he could not return and aid France, he 
meant to go to America. 

Instead of that, the party rode straight into the 
camp of an Austrian advance-guard. 

220 



XXIV 

SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

IT was eight o'clock at night, a few leagues from 
the French border. Their horses were weary and 
spent. The road approached the village of Roche- 
fort in such a way that they could see nothing of the 
town until almost upon it, and the gleam of this 
camp-fire was their first intimation of the presence 
of the Austrians. It would have availed nothing to 
turn back. If they went toward the left they would 
almost certainly fall in with French patrols, or those 
of the emigres who were at Liege. To the right a 
whole chain of Austrian posts stretched toward 
Namur. ''On all sides there was an equality of 
inconvenience," as Lafayette said. One of the 
party rode boldly forward to interview the com- 
m.andant and ask permission to spend the night in 
the village and continue the journey next day. This 
was granted after it had been explained that they 
were neither emigres nor soldiers on their way to 
join either side, but officers forced to leave the 
French army, whose only desire was to reach a neu- 
tral country. 

A guide was sent to conduct them to the village 

221 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

inn. Before they had been there many minutes 
Lafayette was recognized, and it was necessary 
to confess the whole truth. The local commander 
required a pass from the officer at Namur, and 
when that person learned the name of his chief 
prisoner he would hear nothing more about pass- 
ports, but communicated in joyful haste with his 
superior officer, the Due de Bourbon. At Namur 
Lafayette received a visit from Prince Charles of 
Lorraine, who sent word in advance that he wished 
*'to talk about the condition in which Lafayette had 
left France." Lafayette replied that he did not 
suppose he was to be asked questions it might be 
inconvenient to answer, and when the high-bom 
caller entered with his most affable manner he was 
received with distant coolness by all the prisoners. 
From Namur they were taken to Nivelles, where 
they were presented with a government order to 
give up all French treasure in their possession. 
Lafayette could not resist answering that he was 
quite sure their Royal Highnesses would have brought 
the treastu-e with -them had they been in his place; 
and the amusement of the Frenchmen increased as 
the messenger learned, to his evident discomfiture, 
that the twenty-three of them combined did not 
have enough to keep them in comfort for two months. 
That same day the prisoners were divided into 
three groups. Those who had not served in the 
French National Guard were given their liberty and 
told to leave the country. Others were sent to the 
citadel at Antwerp and kept there for two months. 
Lafayette and three companions who had served 

222 



SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

with him in the Assembly, Latour Maubourg, a life- 
long friend, Alexander Lameth, and Bureaux de 
Pusy, were taken to Luxembourg. There was only 
time for a hurried leave-taking. Lafayette spent it 
with an aide who was to go to Antwerp. Feeling 
sure he was marked for death, he dictated to this 
officer a message to be published to the French 
people when he should be no more. 

Before leaving Rochefort he had found means of 
sending a letter to his wife, who was at Chavaniac 
overseeing repairs upon the old manor-house. It 
was from this letter that she learned what had be- 
fallen him, and she carried it in her bosom until she 
was arrested in her turn. The message to Adrienne 
began characteristically on a note of optimism. 
*' Whatever the vicissitudes of fortune, dear heart, 
you know my soul is not of a temper to be cast 
down.'* He told of his misfortune in a gallant way, 
saying the Austrian officer thought it his duty to 
arrest him. He hurriedly reviewed the reasons that 
led up to his flight, said that he did not know how 
long his journey ''might be retarded,'* and bade her 
join him in England with all the family. His closing 
words were: 'T offer no excuses to my children or 
to you for having ruined my family. There is not 
one of you who would owe fortune to conduct con- 
trary to my conscience. Come to me in England. 
Let us establish ourselves in America, where we shall 
find a Hberty which no longer exists in France, and 
there my tenderness will endeavor to make up to 
you the joys you have lost." 

His journey was '* retarded" for five years, and for 

223 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

a large part of that time seemed likely to end only 
at the grave, possibly by way of the executioner's 
block. It is to be hoped that his sense of humor 
allowed him to enjoy one phase of his situation. 
He had been driven from France on the charge that 
he favored the king, yet he was no sooner across the 
border than he was arrested on exactly the opposite 
charge; that of being a dangerous revolutionist, an 
enemy to all monarchs. When he demanded a pass- 
port he received the sinister answer that he was to 
be kept safely until the French king regained his 
power and was in a position to sentence him himself. 
He was sent from prison to prison. First to Wezel, 
where he remained three months in a rat-infested 
dungeon, unable to communicate with any one, and 
watched over by an officer of the guard who was 
made to take a daily oath to give him no news. 
*'One would think," said Lafayette, **that they had 
imprisoned the devil himself." He was so thor- 
oughly isolated that Latour Maubourg, a few cells 
away, learned only through the indiscretion of a 
jailer that he was seriously ill. Maubourg asked 
permission, in case the illness proved fatal, to be 
with him at the last, but was told that no such 
privilege could be granted. But Lafayette did not 
die and even in the worst of his physical ills had the 
spirit to reply, "The King of Prussia is impertinent ! " 
when a royal message came offering to soften the 
rigors of his captivity in return for information 
about France. The message was from that ''honest 
prince" who in Lafayette's opinion ''would never 
have the genius of his uncle.'* 

224 



SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

Another answer, equally inconsiderate of royal 
feelings, resulted in the transfer of the prisoners to 
Magdebourg, where they were kept a year. On 
these journeys from place to place they served as a 
show to hundreds who pressed to see them. There 
were even attempts to injure them, but Lafayette 
believed he saw more pitying faces than hostile ones 
in the crowds. Once fate brought them to an inn 
at the same moment with the Comte d'Artois and 
his retinue, all of whom, with a single exception, 
proved blind to the presence of their former friends. 
We have details of the way in which Lafayette was 
lodged and treated at Magdebourg, from a letter he 
managed to send to his stanch friend, the Princesse 
d'Henin in London. 

''Imagine an opening under the rampart of the 
citadel, surrounded by a high, strong palisade. It 
is through that, after opening successively four doors 
each guarded with chains and padlocks and bars of 
iron, that one reaches, not without some trouble and 
some noise, my dungeon, which is three paces wide 
and five and a half long. The side wall is covered 
with mold; that in front lets in light, but not the 
sun, through a small barred window. Add to this 
tw^o sentinels who can look down into our subter- 
ranean chamber, but are outside the palisade so 
that we cannot speak to them. . . . The noisy opening 
of our four doors occurs every morning to allow my 
servant to enter; at dinner-time, that I may dine in 
presence of the commandant of the citadel and of 
the guard; and at night when my servant is taken 
away to his cell.'* The one ornament on his prison 

225 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

wall was a French inscription, in which the dismal 
words souffrir and mourir were made to rhyme. The 
one break in the prison routine had been an execu- 
tion, upon which, had he chosen, Lafayette could 
have looked from his window as from a box at the 
opera. 

After a year of this he was moved again and turned 
over to the Emperor of Prussia, his prison journeys 
ending finally at the gloomy fortress of Olmutz in 
the Carpathian Mountains. Something may be 
said in defense of the severity with which his captors 
guarded him. He steadfastly refused to give his 
parole, preferring, he said, to take his liberty instead 
of having it granted him. This undoubtedly added 
a zest to life in prison which would otherwise have 
been lacking, and very likely contributed not a little 
to his serenity and even to his physical well-being. 
It transformed the uncomfortable prison routine 
into a contest of wits, with the odds greatly against 
him, but which left him honorably free to seize any 
advantage that came his way. He foiled the refusal 
to allow him writing materials by writing letters as 
he wrote that one to Madame d'Henin, with vinegar 
and lampblack in a book on a blank leaf which had 
escaped the vigilant eye of his guard. Knowing 
very little German, he dug out of his memory for- 
gotten bits of school-day Latin to use upon his 
jailers. He took every bit of exercise allowed him 
in order to keep up his physical strength. He 
believed he might have need of it. He even lived 
his life with a certain gay zest, and took particular 
delight in celebrating the Fourth of July, 1793, in 

226 



SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

his lonely cell by writing a letter to the American 
minister at London. He gave his vivid imagination 
free rein in concocting plans of escape. 

Friends on the outside were busy with plans, too; 
and though he got no definite news of them, his opti- 
mism was too great to permit him to doubt that they 
were doing everything possible for his release. At 
the very outset of his captivity he applied to be set 
free on the ground that he was an American citizen, 
though there was small chance of the request being 
granted. He was sure Washington would not forget 
him; he knew that Gouvemeur Morris had deposited 
a sum of money with his captors upon which he 
might draw at need. Madame de Stael, the daugh- 
ter of Necker, and the Princesse d'Henin were in 
London, busy exercising feminine influence in his 
behalf. General Comwallis and General Tarleton 
had interceded for him, and later he learned that 
Fitzpatrick, the young Englishman he had liked on 
their first meeting in London, the same who after- 
ward carried letters for him from America, had 
spoken for him in Parliament. Fox and Sheridan 
and Wilberforce added their eloquence; but the 
cautious House of Commons decided it was none of 
its business and voted against the proposal to ask 
for Lafayette's release, in the same proportion that 
the citizens of Paris had rejected him for mayor. 

French voices also were raised in his behalf. One 
of the earliest and most courageous was that of 
Lally ToUendal, who as member of the French 
Assembly had quarreled with Lafayette for being so 
much of a monarchist. But later he changed his 

227 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

mind and acted as go-between in the negotiations 
for Lafayette's final plan to remove the royal family 
to Compiegne. From his exile in London Lally 
ToUendal now addressed a memorial to Frederick 
William II, telling him the plain truth, that it was 
unjust to keep Lafayette in jail as an enemy of the 
French king, because it was an effort to save Louis 
which had proved his ruin. ''Those who regard M. 
de Lafayette as the cause, or even one of the causes, 
of the French Revolution are entirely wrong," this 
friend asserted. "He has played a great role, but 
he was not the author of the piece. . . . He has not 
taken part in a single one of its evils which would 
not have happened without him, while the good he 
did was done by him alone." 

Then Lally Tollendal went on to tell how on the 
Sunday after Louis was arrested and brought back 
from Varennes Lafayette by one single emphatic 
statement had put an end, in a committee of the 
Assembly, to an ugly discussion about executing the 
king and proclaiming a republic. ''I warn you," he 
had said, "that the day after you kill the king the 
National Guard and I will proclaim the prince royal." 
Lally Tollendal expatiated upon how evenly Lafay- 
ette had tried to deal out justice to royalists and revo- 
lutionists alike; how in the last days of his liberty he 
had said in so many words that the Jacobins must 
be destroyed; and that he had with difficulty been 
restrained from raising a flag bearing the words, 
"No Jacobins, no Coblenz," as a banner around 
which friends of the king and conservative repub- 
licans might rally. But the strict impartiality this 

228 



SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

disclosed had little charm for a king of Prussia and 
the appeal bore no fruit. 

There were more thrilling efforts to aid him close 
at hand. 'Tt is a whole romance, the attempt at 
rescuing Lafayette," says a French biographer. The 
opening scene of this romance harks back to the 
night when Lafayette made his first landing on 
American soil, piloted through the dark by Major 
Huger's slaves. The least noticed actor in that 
night's drama had been Major Huger's son, a very 
small boy, who hung upon the words of the unex- 
pected guests and followed them with round, child 
eyes. Much had happened to change two hemi- 
spheres since, and even greater changes had occurred 
in the person of that small boy. He had grown up, 
he had resolved to be a surgeon, had finished his 
studies in London, and betaken himself to Vienna 
to pursue them further. There in the autumn of 
1794 in a cafe he encountered a Doctor BoUman of 
Hanover. They fell into conversation, and before 
long Bollman confided to Huger that he had a secret 
mission. He had been charged by Lally Tollendal 
and American friends of Lafayette then in London 
to find out where the prisoner was and to plan for 
his escape. In his search he had traveled up and 
down Germany as a wealthy physician who took an 
interest in the unfortunate, particularly in prisoners, 
and treated them free of charge. For a long time 
he had found no clue, but at Olmutz, whose fortifi- 
cations proved too strong in days past even for 
Frederick the Great, he had been invited to dinner 
by the prison doctor and in turn had entertained 
16 229 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

him, plying him well with wine. They talked about 
prisoners of note. The prison doctor admitted that 
he had one now on his hands; and before the dinner 
was over Bollman had sent an innocent-sounding 
message to Lafayette. Later he was allowed to send 
him a book, with a few written lines purporting to 
be nothing more than the names of some friends then 
in London. 

When the book was returned Bollman lost no time 
in searching it for hidden writing. In this way he 
learned that Lafayette had lately been allowed to 
drive out on certain days a league or two from the 
prison for the benefit of his health, and that his guard 
on such occasions consisted of a stupid lieutenant and 
the corporal who drove the carriage. The latter 
was something of a coward. Lafayette would under- 
take to look after both of them himself if a rescuer 
and one trusty helper should appear. No weapons 
need be provided; he would take the officer's own 
sword away from him. All he wanted was an extra 
horse or two, with the assurance that his deliverers 
were ready. It was a bold plan, but only a bold 
plan could succeed. There were too many bolts 
and bars inside the prison to make any other kind 
feasible. Lameth had been set at liberty; his two 
other friends, Latour Maubourg and Bureaux de 
Pusy, were in full sympathy with the plan, and to 
make it easier had refrained from asking the privilege 
of driving out themselves. Bollman added that he 
could not manage the rescue alone and had come 
away to hunt for a trusty confederate. Huger had 
already told of his unforgotten meeting with Lafay- 

230 



SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

ette, and there was no mistaking the eagerness with 
which he awaited B oilman's next word or the joy 
with which he accepted the invitation to take part 
in the rescue. He was moved by something deeper 
than mere love of adventure. **I simply considered 
myself the representative of the young men of 
America and acted accordingly," he said long after. 
The two men returned to Olmutz and put up at the 
inn where B oilman had stayed before. They man- 
aged to send a note to Lafayette. His answer told 
them he would leave the prison on November 8th 
for his next drive, how he would be dressed, and the 
signal by which they might know he was ready. It 
was a market day, with many persons on the road. 
They paid their score, sent their servants ahead 
with the traveling-carriage and luggage to await 
their arrival at a town called Hoff , while they came 
more slowly on horseback. Then they rode out of 
the gray old town. Neither its Gothic churches, its 
hoary university, nor the ingenious astronomical 
clock that had rung the hours from its tower for 
three hundred and seventy years ; not even the forti- 
fications or the prison itself, built on a plain so bare 
that all who left it were in full view of the sentinels 
at the city gates, interested these travelers as did 
the passers-by. Presently a small phaeton con- 
taining an officer and a civilian was driven toward 
them, and as it went by the pale gentleman in a blue 
greatcoat raised his hand to pass a white handker- 
chief over his forehead. The riders bowed slightly 
and tried to look indifferent, but that was hard work. 
Turning as soon as they dared, they saw that the 

231 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

carriage had stopped by the side of the road. Its 
two passengers alighted; the gentleman in blue 
handed a piece of money to the driver, who drove off 
as though going on an errand. Then leaning heavily 
upon the officer, seeming to find difficulty in walking, 
he drew him toward a footpath. But at the sound 
of approaching horsemen, he suddenly seized the 
officer's sword and attempted to wrench it from its 
scabbard. The officer grappled with him. Bollman 
and Huger flew to his assistance. In the act of 
dismounting Bollman drew his sword and his horse, 
startled by the flashing steel, plunged and bolted. 
Huger managed to keep hold of his own bridle, 
while he helped Bollman tear away the officer's 
hands that were closing about Lafayette's throat. 
The Austrian wrenched himself free and ran toward 
the town, shouting with all his might. 

Here were three men in desperate need of flight, 
the alarm already raised, and only two horses to 
carry them to safety — one of these running wild. 
Huger acted with Southern gallantry and American 
speed. He got Lafayette upon his own steed, 
shouted to him to **Go to Hoff!" and caught the 
other horse. Misunderstanding the injimction, La- 
fayette, who thought he had merely been told to 
"Go off," rode a few steps, then turned back to help 
his rescuers. They motioned him away and he dis- 
appeared, in the wrong direction. The remaining 
horse reared and plunged, refusing to carry double. 
Huger persuaded Bollman to moimt him, since he 
could be of far greater use to Lafayette, and saw him 
gallop away. By that time a detachment of sol- 

232 



SOUTH CAROLINA TO THE RESCUE! 

diers was bearing down upon him, and between their 
guns he entered the prison Lafayette had so lately- 
quitted. 

At the end of twenty miles Lafayette had to change 
horses. He appealed to an honest-looking peasant, 
who helped him to find another one, but also ran to 
warn the authorities. These became suspicious 
when they saw Lafayette's wounded hand, which 
had been bitten by the officer almost to the bone. 
They arrested him on general principles and he was 
carried back to a captivity more onerous than before. 
He was deprived of all rides, of course, of all news, 
even of the watch and shoe-buckles which up to this 
time he had been allowed to retain. B oilman 
reached Hoff and waited for Lafayette imtil night- 
fall, then made his w^ay into Silesia. But he was 
captured and retimied to Austria and finally to 
Olmutz. 

The treatment accorded Lafayette's would-be 
rescuers was barbarous in the extreme. Huger was 
chained hand and foot in an underground cell, 
w^here he listened to realistic descriptions of behead- 
ings, and, worse still, of how prisoners were walled 
up and forgotten. Daily questions and threats of 
torture were tried to make him confess that the 
attempt was part of a wide-spread conspiracy. As 
his statements and his courage did not waver, the 
prison authorities came at last to believe him, and 
he was taken to a cell aboveground where it was 
possible to move three steps, though he was still 
chained. He foimd that Bollman was confined in the 
cell just above him. The latter let down a walnut 

233 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

shell containing a bit of ink and also a scrap of paper. 
With these Huger wrote a few lines to the American 
minister at London, telling of their plight and ending 
with the three eloquent words, "Don't forget us!" — 
doubly eloquent to one who knew those stories of 
walled-up prisoners underground. They bribed the 
guard to smuggle this out of the prison, and in time it 
reached its destination. The American minister did 
not forget them. Through his good offices they were 
released and told to leave the country. They waited 
for no second invitation, which was very wise, be- 
cause the emperor repented his clemency. He sent 
an order for their rearrest, but it arrived, fortunately, 
just too late to prevent their escape across the 
border. 



XXV 

VOLUNTEERS IN MISFORTUNE 

E FAYETTE, in his uncomfortable cell, was left 
in complete ignorance of the fate of B oilman and 
Huger, though given to understand that they had 
been executed or soon would be, perhaps under his 
own window. The long, dreary days wore on until 
more than a year had passed, with little to make 
one day different from another, though occasionally 
he was able to communicate with Pusy or Maubotug 
through the ingenuity of his "secretary," young 
Felix Pontonnier, a lad of sixteen, who had managed 
to cling to him with the devotion of a dog through 
all his misfortunes. Prison air was hard upon this 
boy and prison officials were harder still, but his 
spirits were invincible. He whistled like a bird, he 
made grotesque motions, he talked gibberish, and 
these antics were not without point. They were a 
language of his own devising, by means of which he 
conveyed to the prisoners such scraps of information 
as came to him from the outside world. 

His master had need of all Felix's cheer to help 
him bear up against the anxiety that grew with 
each bit of news from France, and grew greater still 
because of the absence of news from those he loved 

235 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

best. For the first seven months he heard not a 
word from wife and children, though soon after his 
capture he learned about the early days of Sep- 
tember in Paris, when the barriers had been closed 
and houses were searched and prisons '* purged" of 
those suspected of sympathy with the aristocracy. 
Since then he had heard from his wife; but he had 
also learned of the trial and death of the king; and 
rumors had come to him of the Terror. Adrienne's 
steadfastness had been demonstrated to him through 
all the years of their married life. Where principle 
was involved he knew she would not falter; and he 
had little hope that she could have escaped imprison- 
ment or a worse fate. He had heard absolutely 
nothing from her now for eighteen months. His 
captivity has been called "a night five years long," 
and this was its darkest hour. 

Then one day, without the least previous 
warning, the bolts and bars of his cell creaked 
at an unusual hour; they were pushed back — ^and 
he looked into the faces of his wife and daughters. 
The authorities broke in upon the first instant of 
incredulous recognition to search their new charges; 
possessed themselves of their purses and the three 
silver forks in their modest luggage, and disappeared. 
The complaining bolts slid into place once more and 
a new prison routine began, difficult to bear in spite 
of the companionship, when he saw tmnecessary 
hardships press cruelly upon these devoted women. 
Bit by bit he learned what had happened in the out- 
side world: events of national importance of which 
he had not heard in his dungeon, and also little inci- 

236 



VOLUNTEERS IN MISFORTUNE 

dents that touched only his personal history; for 
instance, the ceremonies with which the Commune 
publicly broke the mold for the Lafayette medal, 
and how the mob had howled around his Paris 
house, clamoring to tear it down and raise a ** column 
of infamy" in its place. He forbore to ask ques- 
tions at first, knowing how tragic the tale must be, 
and it was only after the girls had been led away that 
first night and locked into the cell where they were 
to sleep that he learned of the grief that had come to 
Adrienne about a week before the Terror came to 
an end -— the execution on a single day of her 
mother, her grandmother, and her beloved sister 
Louise. 

In time he learned all the details of her own story : 
the months she had been under parole at Chavaniac, 
where through the kind offices of Gouvemeur Morris 
she received at last the letter from her husband 
telling her that he was well. Her one desire had been 
to join him, but there was the old aunt to be provided 
for, and there were also pressing debts to settle; a 
difficult matter after Lafayette's property was con- 
fiscated and sold. Mr. Morris lent her the necessary 
money, assuring her that if she could not repay it 
Americans would willingly assume it as part of the 
far larger debt their country owed her husband. 

She asked to be released from her parole in order 
to go into Germany to share his prison. Instead she 
had been cast into prison on her own account. The 
children's tutor, M. de Frestel, who had been their 
father's tutor before them, conspired with the ser- 
vants and sold their bits of valuables that she might 

237 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

make the journey to prison in greater comfort. He 
contrived, too, that the mother might see her children 
before she was taken off to Paris, and she made them 
promise, in the event of her death, to make every 
effort to rejoin their father. In Paris she lived 
through many months of prison horror, confined part 
of the time in the old College Du Plessis where Lafay- 
ette had spent his boyhood, seeing every morning 
victims carried forth to their death and expecting 
every day to be ordered to mount into the tumbrels 
with them. Had she known it, she was inquired for 
every morning at the prison door by a faithful maid- 
servant, who in this way kept her children informed 
of her fate. George was in England with his tutor. 
At Chavaniac the little girls were being fed by the 
peasants, as was the old aunt, for the manor-house 
had been sold and the old lady had been allowed to 
buy back literally nothing except her own bed. 

At last Robespierre himself died under the guillo- 
tine and toward the end of September, 1794, a less 
bloodthirsty committee visited the prisons to decide 
the fate of their inmates. Adrienne Lafayette was 
the last to be examined at Du Plessis. Her husband 
was so hated that no one dared speak her name. She 
pronounced it clearly and proudly as she had spoken 
and written it ever since misfortune came upon her. 
It was decided that the wife of so great a criminal 
must be judged by higher authority; meanwhile she 
was to be kept imder lock and key. James Monroe, 
who was now American minister to Paris, inter- 
ceded for her, but she was only transferred to another 
prison. Here a worthy priest, disguised as a car- 

238 



VOLUNTEERS IN MISFORTUNE 

penter, came to her to tell her how on a day in July 
the three women dearest to her had been beheaded, 
and how he, running beside the tumbrel through the 
storm that drenched them on their way to execu- 
tion, had been able, at no small risk to himself, to 
offer them secretly the consolations of religion. 

Finally in January, 1795, largely through the 
efforts of Mr. Monroe, she was released. Her first 
care was to make a visit of thanks to Mr. Monroe 
and to ask him to continue his kindness by obtaining 
a passport for herself and her girls so that they might 
seek out her husband. George was to be sent to 
America, for she felt sure that his father, if still alive, 
would desire him to be there for a time under the 
care of Washington, and, if he had perished in 
prison, would have wished his son to grow up an 
American citizen. 

Getting the passport proved a long and difficult 
undertaking. When issued it was to permit Madame 
Motier of Hartford, Connecticut, and her two daugh- 
ters to return to America. It was necessary to begin 
the journey in accordance with this, and they em- 
barked at Dunkirk on a small American vessel bound 
for Hamburg. There they left the ship and went to 
Vienna on another passport, but still as the American 
family named Motier. In Vienna the American 
family hid itself very effectively through the help of 
old friends, and Adrienne contrived to be received 
by the emperor himself, quite unknown to his minis- 
ters. His manner to her and her girls was so gracious 
that she came away **in an ecstasy of joy," though 
he told her he could not release the prisoner. She 

239 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

was so sure her husband was well treated and so 
jubilant over the emperor's permission to write di- 
rectly to him if she had reason to complain, that she 
was not at all cast down by the warnings and evident 
unfriendliness of the prime minister and the minister 
of war with whom she next sought interviews. 

Leaving Vienna by carriage, she and her daughters 
traveled all one day and part of the next northward 
into the rugged Carpathian country before an in- 
terested postboy pointed out the steeples and towers 
of Oknutz. Once in the town, they drove straight 
to the house of the commandant, who took good care 
not to expose his heart to pity by seeing these 
women, but sent the officer in charge of the prison 
to open its doors and admit them to its cold welcome. 

The room in which they found Lafayette did well 
enough in point of size and of furnishings. It was a 
vaulted stone chamber facing south, twenty-four 
feet long, fifteen wide, and twelve high. Light 
entered by means of a fairly large window shut at 
the top with a padlock, but which could be opened 
at the bottom, where it was protected by a double 
iron grating. The furnishings consisted of a bed, 
a table, chairs, a chest of drawers, and a stove; and 
this room opened into another of equal size which 
served as an antechamber. The vileness consisted 
in the sights and smells outside the window and the 
dirt within. 

The routine that began when the door of this 
room opened so unexpectedly to admit Lafayette's 
wife and daughters continued for almost two years. 
Madame Lafayette described it in a letter to her 

240 



VOLUNTEERS IN MISFORTUNE 

aunt, Madame de Tesse, an exile in Holstein, with 
whom she and her girls spent a few days after leaving 
the ship at Hamburg. **At last, my dear aunt, I 
can write you secretly. Friends risk their liberty, 
their life, to transmit our letters and will charge 
themselves with this one for you. . . . Thanks to yoiu* 
good advice, dear aunt, I took the sole means of 
reaching here. If I had been announced I would 
never have succeeded in entering the domains of the 
emperor. . . . Do you wish details of our present life? 
They bring our breakfast at eight o'clock in the morn- 
ing, after which I am locked with the girls until 
noon. We are reunited for dinner, and though our 
jailers enter twice to remove the dishes and bring in 
oiu- supper, we remain together until they come at 
eight o'clock to take my daughters back to their 
cage. The keys are carried each time to the com- 
mandant and shut up with absurd precautions. 
They pay, with my money, the expenses of all three, 
and we have enough to eat, but it is inexpressibly 
dirty. 

"The physician, who does not understand a word 
of French, is brought to us by an officer when we 
have need of him. ;We like him. M. de Lafayette, 
in the presence of the officer, who understands Latin, 
speaks with him in that language and translates for 
us. When this officer, a huge corporal of a jailer, 
who does not dare to speak to us himself without wit- 
nesses, comes with his great trousseau of keys in his 
hand to unpadlock our doors, while the whole guard 
is drawn up outside in the corridor and the entrance 
to our rooms is half opened by two sentinels, you 

241 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

would laugh to see our two girls, one blushing to her 
ears, the other with a manner now proud, now comic, 
passing under their crossed sabers; after which the 
doors of our cells at once close. What is not pleasant 
is that the little court on the same level v/ith the 
corridor is the scene of frequent punishment of the 
soldiers, who are there beaten with whips, and we hear 
the horrible music. It is a great cause of thankful- 
ness to us that our children up to the present time 
have borne up well under this unhealthy regime. As 
for myself, I admit that my health is not good.'* 

It was so far from good that she asked leave to go 
to Vienna for a week for expert medical advice, but 
was told, after waiting long for an answer of any 
kind, that she had voluntarily put herself under the 
conditions to which her husband was subject, and 
that if she left Olmutz she could not return. ''You 
know already that the idea of leaving M. de Lafay- 
ette cotdd not be entertained by any one of us. 
The good we do him is not confined to the mere 
pleasure of seeing us. His health has been really 
better since we arrived. You know the influence of 
moral affections upon him, and howes^er strong his 
character, I cannot conceive that it could resist so 
many tortiu*es. His excessive thinness and his 
wasting away have remained at the same point since 
our arrival, but his guardians and he assure me that 
it is nothing compared to the horrible state he was in 
a year ago. One cannot spend four years in such 
captivity without serious consequences. I have not 
been able to see Messrs. Maubourg and Pusy, or 
even to hear their voices. Judging from the nimiber 

242 



VOLUNTEERS IN MISFORTUNE 

of years with which their so-called guardians credit 
them, they must have aged frightfully. Their suffer- 
ings here are all the harder for us to bear because 
these two loyal and generous friends of M.. de 
Lafayette have never for an instant permitted their 
case to be considered separately from his own. You 
will not be surprised that he has enjoined them never 
to speak for him, no matter what may be the oc- 
casion or the interest, except in a manner in harmony 
with his character and principles; and that he pushes 
to excess what you call 'the weakness of a grand 
passion.'" 

So, in mmgled content and hardship, the days 
passed. The young girls brought a certain amount 
of gaiety into the gray cell, even of material well- 
being. After their arrival their father was supplied 
with his first new clothing since becoming a prisoner, 
garments of rough cloth, cut out "by guesswork," 
that his jailer rudely declared were good enough for 
him. Out of the discarded coat Anastasie contrived 
shoes to replace the pair that was fairly dropping 
off his feet; and one of the girls took revenge upon 
the jailer by drawing a caricature of him on a precious 
scrap of paper which was hidden and saved and had 
a proud place in their home many years later. 
Madame Lafayette, though more gravely ill than she 
allowed her family to know, devoted herself alter- 
nately to her husband and to the education of the 
girls; and in hours which she felt she had a right to 
call her own wrote with toothpick and lampblack 
upon the margins of a volume of Buffon that bi- 
ography of her mother, the unfortunate Madame 

243 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

d'Ayen, which is such a marvel of tender devotion. 
In the evenings, before his daughters were hurried 
away to their enforced early bedtime, Lafayette 
read aloud from some old book. New volumes were 
not allowed; ** everything published since 1788 was 
proscribed," says a prison letter of Latour de Mau- 
bourg's, ''even though it were an Imitation of Jesus 
Christ r 

Long after she was grown Virginia, the younger 
daughter, remembered with pleasure those half- 
hours with old books. From her account of their 
prison life we learn that it was the rector of the uni- 
versity who enabled her mother to send and receive 
letters unknown to their jailers. "We owe him the 
deepest gratitude. By his means some public news 
reached our ears. ... In the interior of the prison we 
had established a correspondence with our com- 
panions in captivity. Even before our arrival our 
father's secretary could speak to him through the 
window by means of a Pan's pipe for which he had 
arranged a cipher known to M. de Maubourg's 
servant. But this mode of correspondence, the only 
one in use for a long time, did not allow great inter- 
course. We obtained an easier one with the help 
of the soldiers whom we bribed by the pleasure of a 
good meal. Of a night, through our double bars, 
we used to lower at the end of a string a parcel with 
part of our supper to the sentry on duty under our 
windows, who would pass the packet in the same 
manner to Messrs. Maubourg and Pusy, who occu- 
pied separate parts of the prison." 

Though they could see no change from day to day, 
244 



VOLUNTEERS IN MISFORTUNE 

the pnsoners were conscious, on looking back over 
several weeks or months, that they were being treated 
with greater consideration. After every vigorous 
expression in favor of Lafayette by Englishmen and 
Americans, especially after every military success 
gained by France, their jailers became a fraction 
more polite. When talk of peace between Austria 
and France began, Tourgot, the emperor's prime 
minister, preferred to have his master give up the 
prisoners of his own free will rather than imder com- 
pulsion. In July, 1797, the Marquis de Chasteler, 
**a perfect gentleman, highly educated, and accom- 
plished," came to Olmutz to inquire with much 
solicitude, on the emperor's behalf, how the prisoners 
had been treated, and to offer them freedom imder 
certain conditions. One condition was that they 
should never set foot again on Austrian territory 
without special permission. Another stipulated that 
Lafayette should not even stay in Europe, but must 
sail forthwith for America. To this he replied that 
he did not wish to stay in Austria, even at the em- 
peror's most earnest invitation, and that he had often 
declared his intention of emigrating to America ; but 
that he did not propose to render account of his 
actions to Frederick William II or to make any 
promise which seemed to imply that that sovereign 
had any rights in the matter. Madame Lafayette 
and his two friends, Maubourg and Pusy, whom he 
saw for the first time in three years when they were 
brought to consult with him over this proposal, 
agreed fully with Lafayette's stand; and the result 
was that all of them stayed in prison. 
17 245 



XXVI 

EXILES 

BUT hope grew. On the very day of Chasteler's 
visit the prisoners learned that negotiations for 
peace, already begun, contained a clause which would 
set them free. These negotiations were being di- 
rected in part — a very important part — by a remark- 
able man who naH been only an unknown second 
lieutenant when the troubles began in France, but 
whose name was now on everybody's lips and whose 
power was rapidly approaching that of a dictator. 
The elder De Segur, father of Lafayette's friend, had 
started him on his spectacular career by placing him 
in the military academy. His name was Napoleon 
Bonaparte. A man even less sagacious than he 
would have seen the advantage of making friends 
rather than enemies of Lafayette's supporters in 
Europe and America. 

Thus it was partly because of repeated demands 
for his release coming from England and France and 
America, and largely because Napoleon willed it, 
that Lafayette was finally set free. Also there is 
little doubt that Austria was heartily tired of being 
his jailer, Tourgot said that Lafayette would have 

246 



EXILES 

been released much earlier if anybody had known 
what on earth to do with him, but that neither Italy 
nor France would tolerate him within its borders. 
Tourgot supposed the emperor would raise no objec- 
tion to the arrangement he had concluded to turn 
over ''all that caravan" to America as a means of 
getting rid of him; **of which I shall be very glad," 
he added. The American consul at Hamburg was 
to receive the prisoners, and he promised that they 
should be gone in ten days. This time Lafayette 
was not given a chance to say Yes or No. 

On September i8, 1797, five years and a month 
after he had been arrested, and two years lacking one 
month from the time Madame Lafayette and the 
girls joined him, the gates of Olmutz opened and he 
and his ** caravan" went forth: Latour Maubourg, 
Bureaux de Pusy, the faithful Felix, and other 
humble members of their retinue who had shared 
imprisonment with them. Louis Romeuf , the aide- 
de-camp, who had taken down Lafayette's farewell 
words to France and who had been zealous in working 
for his relief, rode joyously to meet them, but so 
long as Austria had authority the military kept him 
at arm's-length. The party had one single glimpse 
of him, but it was not until they had reached Dresden 
: that he was permitted to join them. 

Gradually sun and wind lost their feeling of 
strangeness on prison-blanched cheeks. Gradually 
the crowds that gathered to watch them pass dared 
show more interest. Lafayette's face was not un- 
known to all who saw him. An Austrian pressed 
forward to thank him for saving his life in Paris on a 

247 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

day when Lafayette had set his wits against the fury 
of the mob. When the party reached Hamburg 
Gouvemeur Morris and his host, who was an impe- 
rial minister, left a dinner-party to go through the 
form of receiving the prisoners from their Austrian 
guard, thus ** completing their liberty." The short 
time spent in Hamburg was devoted to writing 
letters of thanks to Huger, to Fitzpatrick, and the 
others who had worked for their release. 

The one anxiety during this happy journey had 
been caused by the condition of Madame Lafayette, 
who showed, now that the strain was removed, how 
very much the prison months had cost her. She 
did her best to respond to the demands made upon 
her strength by the friendliness of the crowds; but 
it was evident that in her state of exhaustion a 
voyage to America was not to be thought of. From 
Hamburg, therefore, the Lafayettes went to the 
villa of Madame Tesse on the shores of Lake Ploen 
in Holstein. Here they remained several weeks in 
happy reunion with relatives and close friends; and 
it was here a few months later that Anastasie, Lafay- 
ette's elder daughter, was married to a younger 
brother of Latour de Maubourg, to the joy of every 
one, though to the mock consternation of the lively, 
white-haired Countess of Tesse, who declared that 
these young people, ruined by the Revolution, were 
setting up housekeeping in a state of poverty and 
innocence imequaled since the days of Adam and 
Eve. 

The Lafayettes and the Maubourgs took together 
a large castle at Lhemkulen, not far from Madame 

248 



EXILES 

de Tesse, where Lafayette settled himself to wait 
until he should be allowed to return to France. It 
was here that George rejoined his family. He had 
been a child when his father saw him last; he re- 
turned a man, older than Lafayette had been when 
he set out for America. Washington had been very 
kind to him, but his years in America had not been 
happy. Probably he felt instinctively the constraint 
in regard to him. 

Washington had been much distressed by Lafay- 
ette's misfortune and had taken every official step 
possible to secure his release. It was through the 
good offices of the American minister at London that 
Lafayette had learned that his wife and children 
still lived. Washington had sent Madame Lafay- 
ette not only sympathetic words, but a check for 
one thousand dollars, in the hope that it might relieve 
some of her pressing necessities. He even wrote 
the Austrian emperor a personal letter in Lafayette's 
behalf. When he heard that George was to be sent 
him he ** desired to serve the father of this young 
man, and to become his best friend," but he did not 
find the godfatherly duty entirely easy. It threat- 
ened to conflict with his greater duty as father of his 
country, strange as it seems that kindness to one 
innocent, unhappy boy could have that effect. 
Washington was President of the United States at 
the time and it behooved the yoimg nation to be 
very circumspect. Diplomacy is a strange game of 
many rules and pitfalls; and it might prove embar- 
rassing and compromising to have as member of his 
family the son of a man who was looked upon by 

249 



THE BOYS* LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

most of the governments of Europe as an arch 
criminal. 

Washington wrote to George in care of the Boston 
friend to whose house the youth would go on landing, 
advising him not to travel farther, but to enter Har- 
vard and pursue his studies there. But M. Frestel 
also came to America, by another ship and under an 
assumed name, and George continued his education 
with him instead of entering college. He possessed 
little of his father's faculty for making friends, 
though the few who knew him esteemed him highly. 
The most impressionable years of his life had been 
passed amid tragic scenes, and his natural reserve 
and tendency to silence had been increased by 
anxiety about his father's fate. After a time he 
went to Mount Vernon and became part of the house- 
hold there. One of Washington's visitors wrote: 
"I was particularly struck with the marks of affec- 
tion which the general showed his pupil, his adopted 
son, son of the Marquis de Lafayette. Seated oppo- 
site to him, he looked at him with pleasure and 
listened to him with manifest interest." A note in 
Washington's business ledger shows that the great 
man was both generous and sympathetic in fulfilling 
his fatherly duties. It reads: *'By Geo. W. Fay- 
ette, gave for the purpose of his getting himself such 
small articles of clothing as he might not choose to 
ask for, $ioo." It was at Mount Vernon that the 
news of his real father's release came to George. He 
rushed out into the fields away from everybody, to 
shout and cry and give vent to his emotion unseen 
by human eyes. 

250 



EXILES 

His father was pleased by the development he 
noted in him ; pleased by the letter Washington sent 
by the hand of ''your son, who is highly deserving 
of such parents as you and your estimable lady." 
Pleased, too, that George had the manners to stop 
in Paris on the way home long enough to pay his 
respects to Napoleon, and that, in the absence of the 
general, he had been kindly received by Madame 
Bonaparte. Natural courtesy as well as policy de- 
manded that the Lafayettes fully acknowledge their 
debt to Napoleon. One of Lafayette's first acts on 
being set free had been to write him the following 
joint letter of thanks with Maubourg and Pusy: 

'* Citizen General: The prisoners of Olmutz, 
happy in owing their deliverance to the good will of 
their country and to your irresistible arms, rejoiced 
during their captivity in the thought that their 
liberty and their lives depended upon the triumphs 
of the Republic and of your personal glory. It is 
with the utmost satisfaction that we now do homage 
to our liberator. We should have liked. Citizen 
General, to express these sentiments in person, to 
look with our own eyes upon the scenes of so many 
victories, the army which won them, and the general 
who has added our resurrection to the number of 
his miracles. But you are aware that the journey 
to Hamburg was not left to our choice. From the 
place where we parted with our jailers we address our 
thanks to their victor. 

**From our solitary retreat in the Danish territory 
of Holstein, where we shall endeavor to re-establish 

251 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

the health you have saved to us, our patriotic 
prayers for the Republic will go out united with the 
most lively interest in the illustrious general to 
whom we are even more indebted for the services 
he has rendered liberty and our country than for the 
special obligation it is our glory to owe him, and 
which the deepest gratitude has engraved forever 
upon our hearts. 

** Greetings and respect. 

*'La Fayette, 
Latour Maubourg, 
Bureaux de Pusy." 

Lafayette could no more leave politics alone than 
he could keep from breathing; and even in its stilted 
phrases of thanks this letter managed to show how 
much more he valued the Republic than any in- 
dividual. Perhaps even at that early date he mis- 
trusted Napoleon's personal ambition. 

With the leisure of exile on his hands, and pens 
and paper once more within easy reach, he plunged 
into correspondence and into the project of writing 
a book with Maubourg and Pusy to set forth their 
views of government. Pens and paper seem to have 
been the greatest luxuries of his exile, for the family 
fortunes were at a low ebb. Two of Madame 
Lafayette's younger sisters joined her and the three 
pooled their ingenuity and their limited means to 
get the necessaries of life at the lowest possible cost. 
*'The only resource of the mistress of the establish- 
ment was to make 'snow eggs' when she was called 
upon to provide an extra dish for fifteen or sixteen 



EXILES 

persons all dying of hunger." This state of things 
continued after they had gone to live at Vianen near 
Utrecht in Holland, in order to be a little closer to 
France. Lafayette had asked permission of the 
Directory to return with the officers who had left 
France with him, but received no answer. 

Since Madame Lafayette's name was not on the 
list of suspected persons, she could come and go as 
she would, and she made several journeys, when 
health permitted, to attend to business connected 
with the inheritance coming to her from her mother's 
estate. She was in Paris in November, 1799, when 
the Directory was overthrown and Napoleon became 
practically king of France for the term of ten years 
with the title of First Consul. She sent her husband 
a passport under an assumed name and bade him 
come at once without asking permission of any one 
and without any guaranty of personal safety beyond 
the general one that the new government promised 
justice to all. This was advice after his own heart 
and he suddenly appeared in Paris. Once there he 
wrote to Napoleon, announcing his arrival. Napo- 
leon's ministers were scandalized and declared he 
must go back. Nobody had the courage to mention 
the subject to the First Consul, whose anger was 
already a matter of wholesome dread ; but Madame 
Lafayette took the situation into her own hands. 
She went to see Napoleon as simply as if she were 
calling upon her lawyer, and just as if he were her 
lawyer she laid her husband's case before him. The 
calm and gentle effrontery filled him with delight. 
** Madame, I am charmed to make your acquaint- 

2S3 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

ance!" he cried; **you are a woman of spirit — but 
you do not understand affairs." 

However, it was agreed that Lafayette might re- 
main in France, provided he retired to the country 
and kept very quiet while necessary formalities were 
complied with. In March, 1800, his name and 
those of the companions of his flight were removed 
from the lists of emigres. After this visit of Madame 
Lafayette to the First Consul the family took up its 
residence about forty miles from Paris at La Grange 
near Rozoy, a chateau dating from the twelfth cen- 
tury, which had belonged to Madame d'Ayen. But 
it was not as the holder of feudal dwellings and tradi- 
tions that Lafayette installed himself in the place 
that was to be his home for the rest of his life. He 
had willingly given up his title when the Assembly 
abolished such things in 1790. Mirabeau mockingly 
called him "Grandison Lafayette" for voting for such 
a measure. It was as an up-to-date farmer that he 
began life all over again at the age of forty-two. He 
made Felix Pontonnier his manager, and they worked 
literally from the ground up, for the estate had been 
neglected and there was little money to devote to it. 
Gradually he accumulated plants and animals and 
machines from all parts of the world; writing vo- 
luminous letters about flocks and fruit-trees, and 
exchanging much advice and many seeds; pursuing 
agriculture, he said, himself, **with all the ardor he 
had given in youth to other callings." A decade 
later he announced with pride that **with a little 
theory and ten years of experience he had succeeded 
fairly well." 

254 



EXILES 

As soon as Napoleon's anger cooled he received 
Lafayette and Latour Maubourg, conversing affably, 
even jocularly about their imprisonment. "I don't 
know what the devil you did to the Austrians," he 
said, *'but it cost them a mighty effort to let you 
go." For a time Lafayette saw the First Consul 
frequently and was on excellent terms with other 
members of his family. Lucien Bonaparte is said to 
have cherished the belief that Lafayette would not 
have objected to him as a son-in-law. But in 
character and principle Lafayette and the First 
Consul were too far apart to be really friends. It 
was to the interest of each to secure the good will 
of the other, and both appear honestly to have tried. 
The two have been said to typify the beginning and 
the end of the French Revolution: Lafayette, the 
generous, impractical theories of its first months: 
Napoleon, the strong will and strong hand needed 
to pull the country out of the anarchy into which 
these theories had degenerated. Lafayette was too 
much of an optimist and idealist not to speak his 
mind freely to the First Consul, even when asking 
favors for old friends. Napoleon was too practical 
not to resent lectures from a man whose theories had 
signally failed of success; and far too much of an 
autocrat to enjoy having his personal favors refused. 
The grand cross of the Legion of Honor, a seat in the 
French Senate at a time when it depended on the 
will of Napoleon and not on an election of the people, 
and the post of minister to the United States were 
refused in turn. Lafayette said he was more in- 
terested in agriculture than in embassies, and made 

255' 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

it plain that an office to which he was elected was 
the only kind he cared to hold. If Napoleon hoped 
to gain his support by appealing to his ambition, 
he failed utterly. 

Gradually their relations became strained and the 
break occurred in 1802 when Napoleon was declared 
Consul for life. Lafayette was now an elector for 
the Department of Seine and Mame, an office within 
the gift of the people, and as such had to vote on the 
proposal to make Bonaparte Consul for life. 

He cast his vote against it, inscribing on the 
register of his Commune: 'T cannot vote for such a 
magistracy until public liberty is sufficiently guaran- 
teed. Then I shall give my vote to Napoleon Bona- 
parte'*; and he wrote him a letter carefully explain- 
ing that there was nothing personal in it. **That is 
quite true," says a French biographer. **A popular 
government, with Bonaparte at its head, would have 
suited Lafayette exactly." 

Napoleon as emperor and autocrat suited him 
not at all. He continued to live in retirement, busy 
with his farm, his correspondence, and his family, 
or when his duties as Deputy took him to Paris, 
attending strictly to those and avoiding intercourse 
with Napoleon's ministers. He m^ade visits to 
Chavaniac to gladden the heart of the old aunt who 
was once more mistress of the manor-house, and he 
rejoiced in George's marriage to a very charming 
girl. In February, 1803, while in Paris, a fall upon 
the ice resulted in an injury that made him lame for 
life. The surgeon experimented with a new method 
of treatment whose only result was extreme torture 

256 



EXILES 

even for Lafa^^ette, whose power of bearing pain 
almost equaled that of his blood brothers, the Ameri- 
can Indians. It was during this season of agony 
that Virginia, his youngest child, was married in a 
neighboring room to Louis de Lasteyrie, by the 
same priest who had followed the brave De Noailles 
women to the foot of the scaffold. Instead of the 
profusion of plate and jewels which would have been 
hers before the Revolution, the family ''assessed it- 
self'* to present to the bride and her husband a 
portfolio containing two thousand francs — about 
four hundred dollars. 

In 1807 the greatest grief of Lafayette's life came 
to him in the death of his wife, who had never re- 
covered from the rigors of Olmutz. ''It is not for 
having come to Olmutz that I wish to praise her 
here," the heartbroken husband wrote to Latour 
Maubourg soon after the Christmas Eve on which 
her gentle spirit passed to another life, "but that she 
did not come until she had taken the time to make 
ever}^ possible provision within her power to safe- 
guard the welfare of my aunt and the rights of my 
creditors, and for having had the courage to send 
George to America." The gallant, loving lady was 
buried in the cemetery of Picpus, the secret place 
where the bodies of the victims to the Terror had 
been thrown. A poor working-girl had discovered 
the spot, and largely through the efforts of Madame 
Lafayette and her sister a chapel had been built and 
the cemetery put in order — ^which perhaps accounts, 
for the simpHcity of Virginia's wedding-gift. 



XXVII 

A GRATEFUL REPUBLIC 

DURING the long, dark night of Lafayette's 
imprisonment he had dreamed of America as 
the land of dawn and hope, and planned to make a 
new home there, but when release came this had not 
seemed best. Madame Lafayette's health had been 
too frail, and La Grange, with its neglected acres, 
was too obviously awaiting a master. ''Besides, we 
lack the first dollar to buy a farm. That, in addition 
to many other considerations, should prevent your 
tormenting yourself about it," he told Adrienne. 
One of these considerations was the beloved old aunt 
at Chavaniac, who lived to the age of ninety-two 
and never ceased to be the object of his special care. 
Also his young people, with their marriages and 
budding families, were too dear to permit him 
willingly to put three thousand miles of ocean 
between them and himself. 

But he had never lost touch with his adopted 
country. At the time he declined Napoleon's offer 
to make him minister to the United States he wrote 
a correspondent that he had by no means given up 
the hope of visiting it again as a private citizen; 
though, he added, humorously, he fancied that if he 

258 



A GRATEFUL REPUBLIC 

landed in America in anything except a military 
uniform he would feel as embarrassed and as much 
out of place as a savage in knee-breeches. After 
Napoleon sold Louisiana to the United States, fore- 
seeing he could not profitably keep it, Jefferson 
sounded Lafayette about coming to be governor of 
the newly acquired territory. That offer, too, he had 
seen fit to refuse; but his friends called him **the 
American enthusiast." 

Time went by until almost fifty years had passed 
since the **Bostonians" took their stand against the 
British king. To celebrate the semi-centennial,' 
America decided to raise a monument to the heroes 
of Bunker Hill. Lafayette was asked to lay the 
comer-stone at the ceremonies w^hich were to take 
place on the fiftieth anniversary of the battle. It 
became the pleasant duty of President James 
Monroe, who had served as a subaltern in the battle 
where Lafayette received his American wound, to 
send him the official invitation of Congress and to 
place a government frigate at his disposal for the 
trip. A turn of French elections in 1824 had left 
him temporarily "a statesman out of a job," without 
even the duty of representing his district in the 
Chamber of Deputies. There was really no reason 
why he should not accept and every reason why he 
might at last gratify his desire to see America and 
American friends again. 

He sailed on July 12, 1824, not, however, upon the 
United States frigate, but on the Cadmus^ a regular 
packet-boat, preferring, he said, to come as a private 
individual. His son accompanied him, as did Col. 

259 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

A. Lavasseur, who acted as his secretary. These, 
,with his faithful valet, Bastien, made up his entire 
retinue, though he might easily have had a regiment 
of followers, so many were the applications of en- 
thusiastic young men who seemed to look upon this 
as some new sort of military expedition. On the 
Cadmus he asked fellow-travelers about American 
hotels and the cost of travel by stage and steamboat, 
and M. Lavasseur made careful note of the answers. 
He had no idea of the reception that awaited him. 
When the Cadmus sailed into New York harbor and 
he saw every boat gay with bunting and realized 
that every man, woman, and child to whom coming 
was possible had come out to meet him, he was com- 
pletely overcome. ' ' It will burst !" he cried, pressing 
his hands to his heart, while tears rolled down his 
cheeks. 

Whether he wished or no, he found himself the 
nation's guest. The country not only stopped its 
work and its play to give him greeting; it stopped 
its politics — ^and beyond that Americans cannot go. 
It was a campaign summer, but men forgot for a 
time whether they were for Adams or Crawford, 
Clay or Jackson. Election Day was three months 
off, politics could wait ; but nobody could wait to see 
this man who had come to them out of the past. from 
the days of the Revolution, whose memory was 
their country's most glorious heritage. They gave 
him salutes and dinners and receptions. They 
elected him to all manner of societies. Mills and 
factories closed and the employees surged forth to 
shout themselves hoarse as they jostled mayors and 

260 



A GRATEFUL REPUBLIC 

judges in the welcome. Dignified professors found 
themselves battling in a crowd of their own students 
to get near his carriage. Our whole hard-headed, 
practical nation burst into what it fondly believed 
to be poetry in honor of his coming. Even the in- 
mates of New York's Debtors' Prison sent forth 
such an effusion of many stanzas. If these were not 
real poems, the authors never suspected it. There 
was truth in them, at any rate. "Again the hero 
comes to tread the sacred soil for which he bled" 
was the theme upon which they endlessly embroi- 
dered. Occasionally the law sidestepped in his 
honor. A deputy sheriff in New England pinned 
upon his door this remarkable *' Notice. Arrests in 
civil suits postponed to-day, sacred to Freedom and 
Freedom's Friend.'* ^ 

Lafayette arrived in August and rem^ained until 
September of the following year, and during that 
time managed to tread an astonishing amount of our 
sacred soil, considering that he came before the day 
of railroads. The country he had helped to create 
had tripled in population, and, instead of being 
merely a narrow strip along the Atlantic, now 
stretched westward a thousand miles. He visited 
all the states and all the principal towns. It was 
not only in towns that he was welcomed. At the 
loneliest crossroads a musket-shot or a bugle-call 
brought people magically together. The sick were 
carried out on mattresses and wrung his hand and 
thanked God. Babies were named for him. One 
bore through Hfe the whole name Welcome Lafay- 
ette. Miles of babies already named were held up 
18 261 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

for him to see — and perhaps to kiss. Old soldiers 
stretched out hands almost as feeble as those of 
babies in efforts to detain him and fight their battles 
o*er. With these he was very tender. Small boys 
drew ** Lafayette fish" out of the brooks on summer 
days, and when he came to their neighborhood ran 
untold distances to get sight of him. Often he 
helped them to points of vantage from which they 
could see something more than forests of grown-up 
backs and legs during the ceremonies which took 
place before court-houses and state-houses. Here 
little girls, very much washed and curled, presented 
him with useless bouquets and lisped those artless 
odes of welcome. Sometimes they tried to crown 
him with laurel, a calamity he averted with a deft 
hand. Back of the little girls usually stood a phalanx 
of larger maidens in white, carrying banners, who 
were supposed to represent the states of the Union; 
and back of the maidens was sometimes a wonderful 
triumphal arch built of scantling and covered with 
painted muslin, the first achievement of its kind in 
local history. 

The country was really deeply moved by Lafay- 
ette's visit. It meant to honor him to the full, but 
it saw no reason to hide the fact that it had done 
something for him as well. ^."The Nation's Guest. 
France gave him birth; America gave him Im- 
mortality," was a statement that kept everybody, 
nations and individuals ahke, in their proper places. 
In short, the welcome America gave Lafayette was 
hearty and sincere. Whether it appeared as brilliant 
to the guest of honor, accustomed from youth to 

262 



A GRATEFUL REPUBLIC 

pageants at Versailles, as it did to his hosts we may 
doubt. It was occasionally hard for M. Lavasseur 
to appear impressed and not frankly astonished at 
the things he saw. Lafayette enjoyed it all thor- 
oughly. The difficult r61e fell to his son George, 
who had neither the interest of novelty nor of per- 
sonal triumph to sustain him. He already knew 
American ways, and it was equally impossible for 
him to join in the ovation or to acknowledge greetings 
not meant for himself. He made himself useful by 
taking possession of the coimtless invitations show- 
ered upon his father and arranging an itinerary to 
embrace as many of them as possible. 

To those who have been wont to think of this 
American triumphal progress of Lafayette's as steady 
and slow, stopping only for demonstrations of wel- 
come and rarely if ever doubling on its tracks, it is a 
relief to learn that Lafayette did occasionally rest. 
He made Washington, the capital of the country, his 
headquarters, and set out from there on longer or 
shorter journeys. The town had not existed, indeed 
had scarcely been dreamed of, for a decade after his 
first visit. What he thought of the straggling place, 
with its muddy, stump-infested avenues, we shall 
never know. He had abundant imagination — ^which 
was one reason the town existed; for without imagi- 
nation he would never have crossed the ocean to fight 
for American liberty. Among the people he saw 
about him in Washington during the official cere- 
monies were many old friends and many younger 
faces mysteriously like them. To that striking 
sentence in Henry Clay's address of welcome in the 

263 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

House of Representatives, ''General, you find your- 
self here in the midst of posterity," he could answer, 
with truth and gallantry, "No, Mr. Speaker, pos- 
terity has not yet begun for me, for I find in these 
sons of my old friends the same political ideals and, 
I may add, the same warm sentiments toward myself 
that I have already had the happiness to enjoy in 
their fathers." 

His great friend Washington had gone to his rest; 
but there were memories of Washington at every 
turn. He made a visit to Mount Vernon and spent 
a long hour at his friend's tomb. He entered York- 
town following Washington's old campaign tent, a 
relic which was carried ahead of the Lafayette pro- 
cessions in that part of the country, in a spirit almost 
as reverent as that the Hebrews felt toward the Ark 
of the Covenant. At Yorktown the ceremonies were 
held near the Rock Redoubt which Lafayette's com- 
mand had so gallantly taken. Zachary Taylor, 
who was to gain fame as a general himself and to be 
President of the United States, presented a laurel 
wreath, which Lafayette turned from a compliment 
to himself to a tribute to his men. "You know, 
sir," he said, "that in this business of storming re- 
doubts with unloaded arms and fixed bayonets, the 
merit of the deed lies in the soldiers who execute it," 
and he accepted the crown "in the name of the 
light infantry — ^those we have lost as well as those 
who survive." 

Farther south/ at Camden, he laid the comer- 
stone of a monument to his friend De Kalb; and at 
Savannah performed the same labor of love for one 

264 



A GRATEFUL REPUBLIC 

erected in honor of Nathanael Greene and of Pulaski. 
At Charleston, also, he met Achille Marat, come 
from his home in Florida to talk with Lafayette 
about his father, who met his death at the hands of 
Charlotte Corday during the French Revolution. 
There were many meetings in America to remind 
him of his life abroad. Francis Huger joined him 
for a large part of his journey; he saw Dubois 
Martin, now a jaunty old gentleman of eighty-three. 
It was he who had bought La Victoire for Lafayette's 
runaway journey. In New Jersey he dined with 
Joseph Bonaparte, brother of Napoleon, who was 
living there quietly with his daughter and son-in-law. 

Both on the Western frontier and at the nation's 
capital he met Indian chiefs with garments more 
brilliant and manners quite as dignified as kings ever 
possessed. In a time of freshet in the West he be- 
came the guest of an Indian named Big Warrior and 
spent the night in his savage home. On another 
night he came near accepting tmwillingly the hos- 
pitality of the Ohio River, for the steamboat upon 
which he was traveling caught fire, after the manner 
of river boats of that era, and ''burned a hole in the 
night" and disappeared. He lost many of his be- 
longings in consequence, including his hat, but not 
his serenity or even a fraction of his health, though 
the accident occurred in the pouring rain. 

Everywhere, particularly in the West, he came to 
towns and counties bearing his own name. In the 
East he revisited with his son spots made memorable 
in the Revolution, On the Hudson he rose early to 
point out to George the place where Andre had been 

265 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

taken and the house to which he and Washington 
had come so soon after Arnold's precipitate flight. 
At West Point he reviewed the cadets, slim and 
straight and young, while General Scott and General 
Brown, both tall, handsome men, looking very smart 
indeed in their plumes and dress uniforms, stood 
beside their visitor, who was almost as tall and 
military in his bearing and quite as noticeable for 
the neatness and plainness of his civilian dress. 

Lafayette was broader of shoulder and distinctly 
heavier than he had been forty years before. Even 
in his youth he had not been handsome, though he 
possessed for Americans the magnetism his son so 
sadly lacked. His once fair complexion had turned 
brown and his once reddish hair had turned gray, 
but that was a secret concealed under a chestnut wig. 
He carried a cane and walked with a slight limp, 
which Americans attributed enthusiastically to his 
wound in their service, but which was really caused 
by that fall upon the ice in 1803. Despite his 
checkered fortunes his sixty-eight years had passed 
lightly over his head. Perhaps he did not altogether 
relish being addressed as Venerable Sir by mayors 
and town officials, any more than he liked to have 
laurel wreaths pulling his wig awry, but he knew 
that both were meant in exquisite politeness. 

And, true Frenchman that he was, he never al- 
lowed himself to be outdone in politeness. Every- 
where incidents occiirred, trivial enough, but very 
charming in spirit, that have been treasured in 
memory and handed down to this day. In New 
London two rival congregations besought him to 

266 



A GRATEFUL REPUBLIC 

come to their churches and listen to their pastors. 
He pleased them both. He led blind old ladies gal- 
lantly through the minuet. He held tiny girls in 
his arms and, kissing them, said they reminded him 
of his own little Virginia. He chatted delightfully 
with young men who accompanied him as governors* 
aides in turn through the different states ; and if he 
extracted local information from these talks to use 
it again slyly, with telling effect, in reply to the very- 
next address of welcome, that was a joke between 
themselves which they enjoyed hugely. '*He spoke 
the English language well, but slower than a native 
American," one of these young aides tells us. He 
was seldom at a loss for a graceful speech, though 
this was a gift that came to him late in life. And his 
memory for faces seldom played him false. When 
William Magaw, who had been surgeon of the old 
First Pennsylvania, visited him and challenged him 
for recognition, Lafayette replied that he did not 
remember his name, but that he knew very well what 
he had done for him — he had dressed his wound after 
the battle of the Brandyivine ! 

The processions and celebrations in Lafayette's 
honor culminated in the ceremony for which he had 
crossed the Atlantic, the laying of the comer-stone 
at Bunker Hill. Pious people had said hopefully 
that the Lord could not let it rain on such a day; 
and their faith was justified, for the weather was 
perfect. We are told that on the 17th of June 
''everything that had wheels and everything that 
had legs" moved in the direction of the monument. 
Accoimts tell of endless organizations and of ''miles 

267 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE x 

of spectators," until there seemed to be not room 
for another person to sit or stand. The same chap- 
lain who had lifted up his young voice in prayer in 
the darkness on Cambridge Common before the 
men marched off to battle was there in the sunlight 
to raise his old hands in blessing. Daniel Webster, 
who had not been bom when the battle was fought, 
was there to make the oration. He could move his 
hearers as no other American has been able to do, 
playing upon their emotions as upon an instnmient, 
and never was his skill greater than upon that day. 
He set the key of feeling in the words, "Venerable 
men," addressed to the forty survivors of the battle, 
a gray-haired group, sitting together in the afternoon 
light. Lafayette had met this little company in a 
quiet room before the ceremonies began and had 
greeted each as if he were in truth a personal friend. 
After his part in the ceremony was over he elected 
to sit with them instead of in the place prepared for 
him. *'I belong there," he said, and there he sat, 
his chestnut wig shining in the gray company. 

While Webster's eloquence worked its spell, and 
pride and joy and pain even to the point of tears 
swept over the thousands of upturned faces as 
cloud shadows sweep across a meadow, Lafayette 
must have remembered another scene, a still greater 
assembly, even more tense with feeling, in which he 
had been a central figure: that fete of the Federa- 
tion on the Champs de Mars. Surely no other man 
in history has been allowed to feel himself so inti- 
mately a part of two nations in their moments of 
patriotic exaltation, 

268 



XXVIII 

LEAVE-TAKINGS 

THOUGH the celebration at Bunker Hill was the 
crowning moment of Lafayette's stay in America, 
he remained three months longer, sailing home in 
September, 1825. The last weeks were spent in and 
near Washington. Here he had fitted so perfectly 
into the scheme of life that his comings and goings 
had ceased to cause remark, except as a pleasant 
detail of the daily routine. Perhaps this is the 
subtlest compliment Americans paid him. One of 
the mottoes in a hall decorated in his honor had 
read, ''Ou peut-on itre mieux qu'au sein de safamille? " 
''Where can a man feel more at home than in the 
bosom of his family?" — and this attitude of Wash- 
ingtonians toward him showed how completely he 
had been adopted as one of themselves. 

He had made himself one in thought and spirit 
with the most aggressively American of them all. 
A witty speech of his proves this. A bill had been 
introduced in Congress to present him with two 
hundred thousand dollars in money and "twenty- 
four thousand acres of fertile land in Florida" to 
right a wrong unintentionally done him years before. 

269 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

He had been entitled at the time of our Revolution 
to the pay of an officer of his rank and to a grant of 
public land to be located wherever he chose. He 
refused to accept either until after the Revolution 
in France had swept away his fortune. Then his 
agent in the United States chose for him a tract of 
land near New Orleans which Jefferson thought 
would be of great value. Congress was not in- 
formed and granted this same land to the city. 
Lafayette had a prior claim, but flatly refused to 
contest the matter, saying he could have no quarrel 
with the American people. Everybody wanted the 
bill concerning this reparation in the way of money 
and Florida land to pass, and it was certain to go 
through, but there were twenty-six members of the 
House and Senate who, for one reason and another, 
felt constrained to vote against it. Some voted con- 
sistently and persistently against unusual appro- 
priations of any kind; some argued that it was an 
insult to translate Lafayette's services into terms of 
cold cash. The struggle between private friendship 
and public duty was so hard that some of them came 
to make a personal explanation. * * My dear friends !' * 
he cried, grasping their hands, **I assure you it 
would have been different had I been a member of 
Congress. There would not have been twenty-six 
objectors — there would have been twenty-seven!'* 

During this American visit he renewed old ties 
with, or made the acquaintance of, nine men who 
had been or were to become Presidents of the 
United States: John Adams and his son John 
Quincy Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Wil- 

270 



LEAVE-TAKINGS 

liam Henry Harrison, Andrew Jackson, Zachary 
Taylor, and Franklin Pierce. Perhaps there were 
others. He broke the rules of the Puritan Sabbath 
by driving out to dine on that day with the venerable 
John Adams at his home near Boston ; but there was 
only one white horse to draw his carriage instead of 
the customary four, and not a hurrah broke the 
orderly quiet. Had it been a week-day the crowds 
would have shouted themselves hoarse. Jefferson, 
ill and feeble, welcomed him on the lawn at Monti- 
cello, the estate so dear to him which had been 
ravaged by the British about the time Lafayette 
began his part in driving Comwallis to Yorktown. 

As was quite fitting, Lafayette was the guest of 
President John Quincy Adams at the White House 
during the last days of his stay. One incident must 
be told, because it is so very American and so 
amusing from the foreign point of view. He ex- 
pressed a desire to make a visit of farewell to his old 
friend James Monroe, who had been President the 
year before. He was now living on his estate of 
Oak Hill, thirty-seven miles away. President Adams 
offered to accompany him, and on an August day 
they set out by carriage after an early dinner. 
Mr. Adams, both Lafayettes, and a friend rode in the 
presidential carriage. Colonel Lavasseur and the 
son of the President followed in a *' tilbury," a kind 
of uncovered gig fashionable then on both sides of 
the Atlantic. Servants and luggage brought up the 
rear. 

Lafayette had been passed free over thousands of 
miles of toll-road since he landed in the United 

271 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

States, but when they reached the bridge across the 
Potomac the Httle procession halted and Mr. Adams 
paid toll like an ordinary mortal. Scarcely had his 
carriage started again when a plaintive, *'Mr. Presi- 
dent! Mr. President!" brought it to a standstill. 
The gatekeeper came running up with a coin in his 
hand. **Mr. President," he panted, * 'you've done 
made a mistake. I reckon yo' thought this was two 
bits, but it's only a levy. You owe me another 
twelve and a half cents." The President listened, 
gravely examined the coin, counted the noses of men 
and horses, and agreed that he was at fault. He was 
just reaching down into the presidential pocket when 
he was arrested by a new exclamation. The gate- 
keeper had recognized Lafayette and was thoroughly 
crestfallen. *T reckon the joke's on me," he said, 
apologetically. "All the toll-roads has orders to 
pass the general free, so I owe you something instid 
of you owin' me money. I reckon I ought to pass 
you-all as the general's bodyguard." But to this 
Adams demurred. He was not anybody's body- 
guard. He was President of the United States, and, 
though it was true that toll-roads passed the guest 
of the nation free. General Lafayette was riding that 
day in his private capacity, as a friend of Mr. 
Adams. There was no reason at all why the com- 
pany should be cheated out of any of its toll. The 
gatekeeper considered this and acknowledged the 
superiority of Yankee logic. ''That sounds fair,'* 
he admitted. "I reckon you-all do owe me twelve 
and a half cents." In the tilbury young Adams 
grinned and Colonel Lavasseur chuckled his appre- 

272 



LEAVE-TAKINGS 

elation. "The one time General Lafayette does not 
pass free over your roads," he said, ''is when he 
rides with the ruler of the country. In any other 
land he could not pay, for that very reason." 

When the day of farewell came Washington 
streets were filled with men and women come out to 
see the last of the nation's guest. Stores and pubHc 
buildings were closed and surrounding regions poured 
their crowds into the city. Everybody was sad. 
The cavalry escort which for a year had gathered at 
unholy hours to speed Lafayette on his way or to 
meet him on his return, whenever he could be per- 
suaded to take it into his confidence, met for the 
last time on such pleasant duty, taking its station 
near the White House, where as many citizens as 
possible had congregated. The hour set for de- 
parture was early afternoon. Officials had begun to 
gather before eleven o'clock. At noon the President 
appeared and took his place with them in a circle of 
chairs in the large vestibule, whose outside doors 
had been opened wide to permit all who could see to 
witness the public leave-taking. 

After a brief interval of silence an inner door 
opened and Lafayette came forward with the Presi- 
dent's son and the marshal of the District. Mr. 
Adams rose and made a short address. Lafayette 
attempted to reply, but was overcome with feeling, 
and it was several moments before he regained con- 
trol of his voice. At the end of his little speech he 
cried, *'God bless you!" and opened his arms wide 
with a gesture that included everybody. Then the 
crowd pressed forward and surrounded him until he 

273 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

retired to Mrs. Adams's sitting-room for the real 
farewell with the President's household. After that 
Mr. Adams and he appeared upon the portico. 
Lafayette stepped into a waiting carriage. Flags 
dipped, cannon boomed, and the procession took up 
its march to the wharf where a little steamer waited 
to carry the travelers down the Potomac to the new 
government frigate Brandywine, on which they were 
to sail. At the river's edge he reviewed the militia 
of the District of Columbia, standing with some 
relatives of Washington's during this final ceremony. 
It is said that a cheer that was like a cry of bereave- 
ment rose from the crowd and mingled with the last 
boom of the military salute as the boat swung out 
into the stream. 

The sun had dropped below the horizon when 
they neared Mount Vernon. The company was at 
dinner, everybody, even George Lafayette, working 
hard to overcome the sadness that threatened to 
engulf the company. The marshal came and bent 
over Lafayette, who pushed back his plate and 
bowed his head upon his breast. Then he rose and 
hurried to the deck for a parting look, at the home 
of his friend most of the company following him. 
The eyes of both father and son sought out the 
stately house set on a hill, which held so many 
associations for both of them. The younger man 
had found the beautiful place less well cared for than 
during the lifetime of its owner. Lafayette had 
returned to it only to visit a tomb. 

The trees near the mansion were already beginning 
to blur in the short September twilight. Silently, 

274 



LEAVE-TAKINGS 

with his head a little bent and a little turned to the 
right, as was his habit, he watched it as the boat 
slipped by. The afterglow behind the house had 
deepened to molten gold when a bend in the river 
blotted it from his sight. He turned like a man 
coming out of a dream and hurried to his cabin 
without a word. 

"Only then,'* says Lavasseur, **did he fully 
realize the sacrifice made to France in leaving 
America." 



XXIX 

PRESIDENT — OR KING-MAKER? 

THE ocean was no kinder than usual to Lafayette 
on his homeward voyage and the reception he 
met in Havre lacked enthusiasm. Lx)uis XVIII, who 
was king when he went away, had died during his 
absence and another brother of the ill-fated Louis 
XVI had mounted the throne, with the title of 
Charles X. He was no other than the Comte d'Ar- 
tois who had presided over Lafayette's section in 
the Assembly of Notables and had been blind to his 
presence when the two reached the same inn at the 
same moment in Austria. His ministers were no 
more friendly to liberals of Lafayette's way of 
thinking than those of his brothers had been ; but the 
liberals of France showed a distinct desire to notice 
the home-coming of Lafayette. Police could and 
did disperse young men on horseback who gathered 
under his windows at the inn in Rouen for a serenade; 
but there were other ways of paying respect. One 
took the form of a contest of poets "to celebrate a 
voyage which history will place among the great 
events of the century.** There were eighty-three 
contestants, and B6ranger, who had already paid his 

276 



PRESIDENT— OR KING-MAKER? 

tribute, acted as a judge. In due time the victor 
was ceremoniously given a prize. Lafayette must 
hkve been reminded of the burst of rhyme in America 
quite as much by contrast as by 'similarity. 

His children came to meet him, which more than 
compensated for official neglect ; and the welcome of 
several htmdred neighbors when he reached La 
Grange convinced him that his local popularity was 
not impaired. On the whole he had reason to be 
well content. He brought home ruddy health, 
knowledge of the love in which he was held by twelve 
million warm-hearted Americans, and, a lesser con- 
sideration, doubtless, but one for which to be properly 
grateful, the prospect of speedily rebuilding the 
family fortunes. The grant of land voted by Con- 
gress was for thirtiy-six sections of six hundred and 
forty acres each, **east of and adjoining the city of 
Tallahassee in Leon County, Florida." So far as 
the writer has been able to learn, it never greatly 
benefited him or his heirs; but that fact was merci- 
fully hidden in the future. In addition to the land 
there was a goodly sum of money to his credit in a 
Philadelphia bank. 

He had stood the fatigues of the trip wonderfully. 
His cousin who went to see him soon after his return 
marveled to find him "big, fat, fresh, and joyous,'* 
showing not the least ill effects from having ''gone 
several months practically without sleep, in addition 
to talking, writing, traveling, and drinking for all 
he was worth (pour tout de bon) ten hours out of the 
twenty-fotu." And he brought home from across 
the sea another gift: an ease in public speaking 

19 277 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

which astonished the friends who remembered the 
impatient scorn his silences roused in Marie Antoi- 
nette and how seldom he made speeches in the As- 
sembly of Notables. During his command of the 
National Guard of Paris his utterances had of neces- 
sity been more frequent and more emphatic, but 
they betrayed none of the pleasure in addressing 
audiences that he now evidently felt. It was as 
though the friendliness of the American people had 
opened for him a new and delightful channel through 
which he could express his good will toward all the 
world. His voice lent itself well to public speaking; 
it could be soft or sonorous by turns, and he had the 
art of using plain and simple words. His physician, 
Doctor Cloquet, tells how some workmen were seen 
puzzling over a newspaper and criticizing it rather 
severely until they came to a speech by Lafayette. 
**Good!" said the reader, his face clearing. *'At 
least we can imderstand what this man says. He 
speaks French." 

Delighting workmen was not a gift to ingratiate 
him with a Bourbon king whose government was 
growing less popular every day. Lafayette retired 
to La Grange among its vineyards and orchards in 
the fiat region of La Brie and took up life there 
again; cultivating his estate; carrying on an immense 
correspondence in that small, well-formed script of 
his which is yet so difficult to read; rejoicing in his 
family and receiving many visitors. It was a cos- 
mopolitan procession that made its way up the 
Rozoy road to the chateau whose Norman towers 
had been old before the discovery of the New World. 

278 



PRESIDENT— OR KING-MAKER? 

Some in that procession were old friends, members 
of the French nobility, who came in spite of Lafay- 
ette's politics; others were complete strangers 
drawn to him from distant parts of the earth by 
these same opinions. French, English, Americans, 
Austrians, Algerian sheiks, black men from the 
West Indies — all were welcome. 

In his study, an upper room in one of his five 
towers, he was literally in the center of his world. 
From a window overlooking the farm-yard he could 
direct the laborers by megaphone if he did not choose 
to go down among them. His '* speaking-trumpet," 
as Charles Sumner called it, still lay on his desk when 
this American made his pious pilgrimage years after 
Lafayette's death. On the walls of the library and 
living-room himg relics that brought vividly to mind 
the history of two continents during momentous 
years. The American Declaration of Independence 
and the French Declaration of Rights hung side by 
side. A copy in bronze of Houdon's bust of Wash- 
ington had the place of honor. A portrait of Bailly, 
a victim of the Revolution, himg over the fireplace in 
Lafayette's study. There were swords presented by 
French admirers and gifts from American cities and 
Indian chiefs. There was one room which was 
entered only by Lafayette and his children, and that 
but once a year, on the anniversary of his wife's 
death. It had been hers and was closed and kept 
just as she left it. 

Her death marked a distinct period in his life. 
There were those who said that when she died 
Lafayette lost more than a loved companion; that 

279 



THE BOYS* LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

he lost his conscience. In proof of this they pointed 
out how in the later years of his life, after her steady- 
ing influence was removed, he veered about in the 
troubled sea of French poHtics, like a ship without a 
rudder. It is true only in a superficial sense; but it is 
true that he was never quite the same after she died. 

For seven years immediately after this loss he 
took no active part in public affairs; partly because 
of his private sorrow, partly because of his opposi- 
tion to the emperor. He had been disappointed in 
Napoleon and the latter distrusted him. **A11 the 
world is reformed," Napoleon grumbled, **with one 
exception. That is Lafayette. He has not receded 
from his position by so much as a hair's breadth. 
He is quiet now, but I tell you he is ready to begin 
all over again.'* George and Lafayette's son-in- 
law suffered from this displeasure in their army 
careers. "These Lafayettes cross my path every- 
where!" Napoleon is said to have exclaimed when 
he found the names of the young men on an army 
list submitted for promotion, and promptly scratched 
them off. 

Then fortune began to go against the emperor 
and invading armies came marching into France. 
Lafayette offered his sword and his experience to 
his country, but the advice he gave appeared too 
dangerous and revolutionary. What he desired was 
to force the abdication of Napoleon at that time. 
He was in Paris on March 31, 18 14, when foreign 
soldiers entered the city. Powerless to do anything 
except grieve, he shut himself up in his room. 
Napoleon retired to Elba and the brother of Louis 

280 



PRESIDENT— OR KING-MAKER? 

XVI was summoned to take the title of Louis XVIII. 
This was the prince Lafayette had intentionally 
offended when he was scarcely more than a boy. 

After he was made king, however, Lafayette wrote 
him a note of congratulation and appeared in uniform 
at his first royal audience wearing the white cockade. 
That certainly seemed like a change of front, but 
Lafayette thought it a necessity. '*It had to be Na- 
poleon or the Bourbons, * ' he wrote Jefferson. ' ' These 
are the only possible alternatives in a country where 
the idea of republican executive power is regarded as 
a synonym for excesses committed in its name." 
He accepted the government of Louis XVIII as more 
liberal than that of the emperor. Time and again 
after this he aided in the overthrow of one man or 
party, only to turn against the new power he had 
helped create. He even tried to work with Na- 
poleon again after Louis XVIII fled to Ghent and 
Bonaparte returned from Elba to found his "new 
democratic empire," known as the Hundred Days. 
Waterloo came at the end of it; then Lafayette 
voiced the demand for the emperor's abdication and 
pressed it hard. 

**What!" he cried in answer to Lucien Bonaparte's 
appeal to the Chamber of Deputies not to desert 
his brother, because that would be a violation of 
national honor, *'you accuse us of faiHng in duty 
toward honor, toward Napoleon ! Do you forget all 
we have done for him? The bones of our brothers 
and of our children cry aloud from the sands of 
Africa, from the banks of the Guadalquivir and the 
Tagus, from the shores of the Vistula and the glacial 

281 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

deserts of Russia. During more than ten years 
three milHon Frenchmen have perished for this man 
who wants to-day to fight all Europe. We have 
done enough for him. Our duty now is to save our 
country!" 

Lafayette was one of the deputation sent by the 
Chamber to thank the ex-emperor after his abdica- 
tion, and admired Napoleon's self-possession during 
that trying scene. He thought Napoleon * Splayed 
grandly the role necessity forced upon him." Lafay- 
ette was also one of the commission sent to negotiate 
with the victorious allies. It was there that he gave 
his spirited answer to the demand that Napoleon be 
given up. "I am astonished you should choose a 
prisoner of Olmutz as the person to whom to make 
that shameful proposal." 

Louis XVIII returned to power and soon Lafayette 
was opposing him. So it went on for years. He said 
of himself that he was a man of institutions, not of 
dynasties ; and that he valued first principles so much 
that he was very willing to compromise on matters 
of secondary importance. He cared nothing for 
apparent consistency and did whatever his erratic 
republican conscience dictated, without a thought of 
how it might look to others. He was a bom opti- 
mist, but a poor judge of men; and in spite of re- 
peated disappointments believed the promises of 
each new ruler who came along. Liberal representa- 
tive government was of supreme importance in his 
eyes. If France was not yet ready for a president, 
she could have it under a king. Each administra- 
tion that promised a step in this direction received 

282 



PRESIDENT--OR KING-MAKER? 

his support, each lapse from it his censure. That 
appears to be the key to the many shifting changes of 
his later life. 

His popularity among the people waxed and 
waned. Usually it kept him his seat in the Chamber 
of Deputies. From i8i8toi824he represented the 
Sarthe; from 1825 to the close of his life the district 
of Meaux. It was in the interval between that he 
made his visit to America. He returned to find 
Charles X king. As that monarch lost popularity his 
own influence gained. Charles's ministers thought 
their sovereign showed ill-placed confidence and 
esteem when he freely acknowledged that this liberal 
leader had rendered services to his family that no 
true man could forget. **I know him well," Charles 
said. "We were bom in the same year. We 
learned to mount a horse together at the riding 
academy at Versailles. He was a member of my 
division in the Assembly of Notables. The fact is 
neither of us has changed — he no more than I." 
That was just the point. Neither had changed. 
Charles X was a Bourbon to the bone, and Lafayette 
had come back from America with renewed health, 
replenished means, and all the revolutionary impetu- 
osity of youth. He had not one atom of that willing- 
ness to put up with '* things as they are" which grows 
upon many reformers as their hair turns gray. John 
Quincy Adams divined this and advised Lafayette 
to have nothing more to do with revolutions. ''He 
is sixty-eight years old, but there is fire beneath the 
cinders," the President of the United States con- 
fided to his diary in August, 1825. 

283 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

The cinders glowed each time Charles X empha- 
sized his Bourbonism; and caught fire again when 
the king made the Prince de Polignac prime minister 
in defiance of all liberal Frenchmen. That hap- 
pened in 1829. Lafayette took occasion to visit 
Auvergne, the province of his birth, in company 
with his son, and was received with an enthusiasm 
rivaling his most popular days in America. The 
journey was prolonged farther than strict necessity 
required and did much to unite opposition to the 
king, for leaders of the liberal party profited by 
banquets and receptions in Lafayette's honor to 
spread their doctrines. More than one official who 
permitted such gatherings lost his job in consequence. 
Lafayette returned to La Grange; but in the fol- 
lowing July, when the storm broke, he called for his 
horses and hurried to Paris. The Chamber of 
Deputies was not in session; he thought it ought to 
be; and he started as soon as he had read a copy 
of the Royal Ordinances which limited the freedom 
of the press and otherwise threatened the rights of 
the people. 

Before he reached Paris blood had been shed and 
barricades had been thrown across the streets. 
Alighting from his carriage, he told the guards his 
name, dragged his stiff leg over the obstructions, and 
joined the little group of legislators who were striving 
to give this revolt the sanction of law. Having had 
more experience in revolutions than they — this was 
his fourth — ^he became their leader, and on July 29, 
1830, found himself in the exact position he had occu- 
pied forty years before, commander of the National 

284 



PRESIDENT— OR KING-MAKER? 

Guard and practically dictator of France. An un- 
willingly admiring biographer says that he had 
learned no wisdom in the interval ; that he * ' pursued 
the same course with the same want of success." 
This time he held the balance of power fo!r only two 
days, but it was actual concentrated power while it 
lasted. It was he who sent back to Charles the 
stem answer that his offers of compromise came too 
late, that the royal family had ceased to reign. And 
it was he who had to choose the next form of govern- 
ment for France. 

It was a dramatic choice. He was frankly ambi- 
tious; and quite within his reach lay the honor he 
would have preferred above all others. The choice 
lay between becoming himself President of France 
or, making a new king. It was put to him fairly 
and squarely: **If we have a republic you will be 
president. If a monarchy, the Due d' Orleans will 
be king. Will you take the responsibility of a re- 
public?" A man with *'a canine appetite for fame" 
and nothing more could have found but one answer, 
and that not the answer Lafayette gave. In his few 
hours of power he had talked with men from all parts 
of France. These confirmed his belief that the 
country was not yet ready for the change to a re- 
public. It would be better to have a king for a 
while longer, provided he was a liberal king, pledged 
to support a constitution. The Due d' Orleans gave 
promise of being just such a king. He was son of 
the duke Lafayette had banished from Paris after 
the mob attacked Versailles in 1789; but he had 
fought on the liberal side. The people knew him as 

28s 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Philippe figalit6 — "Equality Philip" — and during 
recent years he had given evidence of being far more 
democratic than any other member of his family. 
To choose him would please liberals and conserva- 
tives alike, because he was next in line of succession 
after the sons of the deposed king. 

Being by no means devoid of ambition, the duke 
was already in Paris, awaiting what might happen. 
The Deputies sent him an invitation to become lieu- 
tenant-general of the kingdom. Accotints vary as to 
the manner in which it was accepted. One has him 
walking with ostentatious humility through the 
streets to the H6tel de Ville, preceded by a drummer 
to call attention to the fact that he was walking and 
that he wore a tricolored scarf. Another has him 
on horseback without the scarf. It matters little; 
they agree that he was not very well received and 
that shouts of *'No more Bourbons!" betrayed the 
suspicion that the duke's liberality, like the scarf, if 
he wore one, could be put on for the occasion. 
Accounts agree, too, that it was Lafayette who 
swung popular feeling to his side. He met him at 
the foot of the stairs and ascended with him to the 
Chamber of Deputies ; and in answer to the coolness 
with which he was greeted and the evident hostility 
of the crowd outside, thrust a banner into the duke's 
hand and drew him to a balcony, where he publicly 
embraced him. Paris was easily moved by such 
spectacles. Carried away by the sight of the two 
enveloped in the folds of the same flag, and that 
the Tricolor, which had been forbidden for fif- 
teen years, they burst into enthusiastic shouts of 

286 




MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE AND LOUIS PHILIPPE 

After the Revolution of 1830, it was Lafayette who swung popular feeling 
to the side of Louis Philippe 



PRESIDENT— OR KING-MAKER? 

"Vive Lafayette!" "Long live the Due d'Orleans!" 
Chateaubriand says that "Lafayette's republican 
kiss made a king," and adds, "Singular result of the 
whole life of the hero of two worlds!" 

Louis Philippe, the new king, promised to approve 
certain very liberal measures known as the program 
of the Hotel de Ville; Lafayette saw to that. The 
king even agreed in conversation with Lafayette that 
the United States had the best form of government 
on earth. He had spent some years in America and 
probably knew. He was called, enthusiastically or 
mockingly, as the case might be, the Bourgeois King; 
but the suspicion that his sympathies with the people 
were only assumed proved well founded. As time 
wore on it became manifest that he was as eager for 
arbitrary power as ever Louis XIV had been, with- 
out possessing Louis XIV*s great ability. At first, 
however, everything was rose-colored. A few days 
after the new king had ascended the throne Lafayette 
wrote: "The choice of the king is good. I thought 
so, and I think so still more since I know him and 
his family. Things will not go in the best possible 
way, but liberty has made great progress and will 
make still more. Besides, I have done what my con- 
science dictated; and if I have made a mistake, it 
was made in good faith." 

That belief at least he could keep to the end. 
Two weeks after Louis Philippe became king Lafay- 
ette was appointed general in command of the Na- 
tional Guards of the kingdom, a position he held 
from August until Christmas. Then a new law 
abolished the office in effect but not in appearance. 

287 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Lafayette sent the king his resignation and refused 
to reconsider it or even to talk the matter over, as 
the king asked him to do. **No, my dear cousin, 
I understand my position/' Lafayette wrote Philip 
de S6gur. ''I know that I weigh like a nightmare 
on the Palais Royal; not on the king and his family, 
who are the best people in the world, and I love them 
tenderly, but on the people who surround them. . . . 
Without doubt I have been useful in his advance- 
ment. But if I sacrificed for him some of my per- 
sonal convictions, it was only on the faith of the 
program of the H6tel de Ville. I announced a king 
basing his reign on republican institutions. To that 
declaration, which the people seem to forget, I attach 
great importance; and it is that which the court 
does not forgive. . . . From all this the conclusion 
follows that I have become bothersome. I take my 
stand. I will retain the same friendliness for the 
royal family, but I have only one word of honor, and 
I cannot change my convictions." 

So once again, near the close of his life, he foimd 
himself in opposition to a government he had 
helped to create. 



XXX 

SEVENTY-SIX YEARS YOUNG 

ALTHOUGH he had resigned the office to which 
^^ the king had appointed him, Lafayette con- 
tinued to hold his place in the Chamber of Depu- 
ties; the office to which the people had elected 
him. Here he worked in behalf of the oppressed of 
his own and other nations; the Irish, for example, 
and the Poles, in whose struggles for Hberty he was 
deeply interested. 

When the Chamber of Deputies was in session he 
lived in Paris. Vacations were spent at La Grange, 
where he pursued the varied interests of his many- 
sided life, particularly enjoying, in his character of 
farmer, the triumph of his beasts and fruits in 
neighborhood fairs. In the winter of 1834 he was 
as usual in Paris, and on the 26th of January made 
the speech in behalf of Polish refugees then in 
France which proved to be his last public address. 
A few days later he attended the funeral of one of 
the Deputies, following the coffin on foot all the long 
distance from the house to the cemetery, as was the 
French custom, and standing on the damp ground 
through the delivery of the funeral discourses. The 

289 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

exposure and fatigue were too much for even his 
hardy old body. 

He was confined to his room for many weeks, but 
carried on a life as normal as possible, having his 
children around him, receiving visits of intimate 
friends, reading journals and new books, and dic- 
tating letters. One of these was to Andrew Jackson 
about his fight with the United States Senate. The 
inactivity of the sick-chamber was very irksome to 
him, and by the gth of May he was so far improved 
that his physicians allowed him to go for a drive. 
Unfortunately a storm came up, the weather turned 
suddenly cold, and he suffered a chill, after which his 
condition became alarming. When it was known 
that he was a very sick man, friends and political 
enemies — ^he had no personal enemies — hastened to 
make inquiries and to offer condolences. Occasion- 
ally George Lafayette was able to answer that his 
father seemed better; but the improvement was not 
real. On the 20th of May he appeared to wake and 
to search for something on his breast. His son put 
into his hands the miniature of Adrienne that he 
always wore. He had strength to raise it to his 
lips, then sank into unconsciousness from which he 
passed into the sleep of death. 

He was laid to rest in the cemetery of Picpus beside 
the wife who had awaited him there for more than 
a quarter of a century ; but his grave was made in 
earth from an American battle-field that he had 
brought home with him after his last visit. Fifteen 
natives of Poland bore the coffin to the hearse. 
There were honorary pall-bearers representing the 

290 



SEVENTY-SIX YEARS YOUNG 

Chamber of Deputies, the National Guard, the Army, 
the United States, Poland, and his own electoral dis- 
trict of Meaux. It was purely a military funeral. 
His party friends hotly declared that it was not a 
funeral at all, only a monster military parade. The 
government feared that his burial might be made 
the occasion for political demonstrations and ordered 
out such an immense number of troops that *'the 
funeral car passed almost unseen in the midst of a 
battalion whose bayonets . . . kept the people from 
rendering homage to their Hberator." "He was 
there lifeless, but not without honor," wrote an 
indignant friend. '*The French army surrounded 
him in his coffin as relentlessly as the Austrian army 
had held him a prisoner at Olmutz." Even the 
cemetery was guarded as if to withstand a siege. 
*'Only the dead and his family might enter. . . . 
One would say that the government looked upon the 
mortal remains of this friend of liberty as a bit of 
prey which must not be allowed to escape." The 
liberals resented this fancied attitude of the govern- 
ment so bitterly that a cartoonist drew Louis 
PhiHppe rubbing his hands together with satisfac- 
tion as the procession passed and saying, gleefully, 
*' Lafayette, you're caught, old man!" Only one 
incident occurred to justify so many precautions. 
In the Place Vendome a few score young men carry- 
ing a banner tried to break through the line of sol- 
diers, but were reptilsed. Elsewhere people looked 
on in silence. 

Lafayette's political friends complained that not 
one of the king's ministers was to be seen in the pro- 

291 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

cession. The ministers answered that politics were 
out of place at the funeral of such a distinguished 
man ; and that the government rendered its homage 
regardless of party. While friends and foes wrangled 
thus over the coffin, Nature did her beautiful con- 
soling best. Chateaubriand, standing in the silent 
crowd, saw the hearse stop a moment as it reached 
the top of a hill, and as it stopped a fugitive 
ray of sunlight came to rest upon it, then disap- 
peared, gilding the guns and military trappings as 
it passed. 

In spite of all this recrimination Lafayette's death 
passed comparatively unnoticed in France, for it oc- 
ciured during a season of political turmoil and he had 
retired several years before from active affairs. 
Three thousand miles away the news produced far 
greater effect. He was mourned in America with 
universal sorrow. All over the country flags floated 
at half-mast. The House and Senate of the United 
States passed resolutions which were sent to George 
Lafayette, while the members wore crape upon their 
arms for thirty days and the Senate Chamber and 
Hall of Representatives remained draped in black 
until the end of the session. Our army and navy 
wore a tribute of crape upon their sleeves also, and 
on a given day every city in the Union heard the 
mourning salute of twenty -four guns, and after that 
at half -hour intervals until sunset the booming of a 
single cannon. ** Touching honors," says a French 
writer, "rendered by a great people to the memory of 
a stranger who had served them sixty years before." 



292 



SEVENTY-SIX YEARS YOUNG 

Lafayette lived to hold his great-grandchild in 
his arms, yet the period of his life seems very short 
if measured by the changes that came about while 
he walked the earth. It was a time when old men 
dreamed dreams and young men saw visions, and 
during Lafayette's seventy-six years some of the 
visions became realities, some of his dreams he saw 
well on the way to fulfilment. 

The French regard Lafayette's American career as 
only an episode in his life; while Americans are apt 
to forget that he had a career in France. He lived 
in three distinct periods of history, so different that 
they might have been centuries apart. He saw 
medieval Europe; the stormy period of change, and 
something very like the modern world we know to- 
day. . Peasants knelt in the dust before the nobles, 
, after he was a grown man ; yet, in his old age, rail- 
I roads and republicanism were established facts. 
:i.*'To have made for oneself a r61e in one or another 
of these periods suffices for a career,'* says his French 
biographer Donoil; -''very few have had a career 
in all." 

Lafayette played an important part in all three. 
Not only that; it was his strange good fortune to 
hold famiHar converse with two of the greatest 
figures in history — the two very greatest of his own 
age — Washington and Napoleon. That he seems 
even measurably great in such company shows his 
true stature. Washington was his friend, who 
loved him hke a son. Napoleon appears to have 
been one of the very few men Lafayette could never 
qiiite bring himself to trust, though Napoleon ren-^ 
' 20 293 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

dered him an immense service and did everything 
in his great power to win his support. 

If, as certain French historians say, Lafayette and 
Napoleon were dictators in turn, Lafayette's task 
was in a way the harder of the two; for Napoleon's 
turn came after the fury had spent itself and men 
were beginning to recover, sobered by their own ex- 
cesses. It was in the mounting delirium of their 
fever that Lafayette's middle course brought upon 
him first distrust, then enmity from both sides. 

If an Austrian prison had not kept him from 
destruction he must have perished during the Revo- 
lution, for he was never swerved by fear of personal 
danger. One of his eulogists asserts that he was 
*'too noble to be shrewd." Another says that he 
judged men by his own feelings and was "misled 
by illusions honorable to himself." After his experi- 
ence in America he undoubtedly expected to play a 
great part in the uprising in France, and, not realizing 
the strength of selfishness and passion, helped to let 
loose forces too powerful to control. One of his 
critics has asserted that he never made a wise or a 
correct decision; but critics and eulogists alike agree 
that he was upright and brave. They are justified 
in saying he was vain. His vanity took the form of 
believing himself right. 

He was not self-seeking,^ and the lack of that 
quality caused him to be regarded with puzzled sur- 
prise by men who could not understand his willing- 
ness to step aside in favor of some one else, when he 
thought the cause demanded it. *Tt seemed so 
foolish," said Madame de Stael in her sympathetic 

294 



SEVENTY-SIX YEARS YOUNG 

portrait, **to prefer one's country to oneself ... to 
look upon the human race, not as cards to be played 
for one*s own profit, but as an object of sacred devo- 
tion." Chateaubriand said that forty years had to 
pass after Lafayette's death before people were really 
convinced that he had been an idealist and not a fool. 
The fact was brought home to them, little by little, 
as records scattered to the four winds during the 
Revolution gradually saw the light of print; here a 
public docimient, there a private letter, there again a 
bit of personal reminiscence. Fitting together like 
a puzzle, they showed at last how one single idea 
had inspired all Lafayette's acts, even when they 
seemed most erratic. *' Fortunately for him," says 
one of his French biographers, "it was the idea of 
the century — political liberty." 

In his lifetime he arranged his papers for publica- 
tion and dictated occasional bits of comment; but 
these were only fragmentary, as many of his papers 
were lost. Besides, it was a task for which he had 
no great zest. He said it seemed ungracious to 
accuse men of persecuting him who afterward died 
for the very principles he upheld. He was sure his- 
tory would accord to each his just deserts. Madame 
de Stael said that his beHef in the final triumph of 
liberty was as strong as the belief of a pious man in 
a future life. He said himself that liberty was to 
him a love, a religion, a *' geometric certainty." 

To his last day he pursued this ideal of his wherever 
it led him. His failure to learn worldly wisdom irri- 
tated many. It was incongruous, like the contrast 
between his polished old-time manners and the rash 

295 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

utterances that fell from his lips. It must be cxDn- 
fessed that in his latter years he was not always 
clear-sighted as to the means he employed. Once 
he descended to methods better suited to Italy in the 
Middle Ages than to political reformers in 1822. 
There were times, too, when he seemed bent on self- 
destruction. Those near him were convinced that 
he would like to lose his life provided he could thereby 
add to the luster of his reputation. *T have lived 
long," was his answer to intimate friends who gave 
him counsels of prudence. **It seems to me that it 
would be quite fitting to end my career upon the 
scaffold, a sacrifice to liberty." 

Napoleon's estimate of him was short and severe. 
"Lafayette was another of the fools; he was not 
cut out for the great r61e he wanted to play." When 
some one ventured to remind the ex-emperor of 
Lafayette's spirited refusal to give him up on the 
demand of the allied powers, Napoleon answered 
dryly that he was not attacking Lafayette's senti- 
ments or his good intentions, but was merely com- 
plaining of the mess he made of things. Lafayette's 
estimate of the former emperor was even more 
severe. He thought Napoleon's really glorious title 
had been "Soldier of the Revolution" and that the 
crown was for him **a degradation." American his- 
tory would have been the loser if either of these men 
had not lived. Lafayette helped win us our country. 
By selling us Louisiana, Napoleon almost doubled 
its extent. Napoleon's heart rarely led him into 
trouble; personal ambition seldom led Lafayette 
far astray. The two can be contrasted, but not 

296 



SEVENTY-SIX YEARS YOUNG 

compared. There is food for thought in the fact 
that a statue of Lafayette, modeled by an American 
sculptor and given by five million American school- 
children to France, should have been erected in the 
Louvre on the spot once set apart for a statue of the 
French emperor. 

Madame de Stael thought Lafayette more like the 
English and Americans than like the French, even 
in his personal appearance. Another French esti- 
mate, that he had "a cold manner, masking concen- 
trated enthusiasm," is quite in keeping with Ameri- 
can character, as was his incorrigible dash of opti- 
mism. It was to America, a country of wide spaces 
and few inhabitants, that he followed his vision of 
liberty in early manhood, and there where the play 
and interplay of selfish interests was far less compli- 
ca.ted than in France he saw it become a practical 
reality. Later he championed many noble causes in 
many parts of the world. Next to political freedom 
and as a necessary part of it, he had at heart the 
emancipation of the negroes. This he tried himself 
to put into practice. He was shocked when he 
returned to our country in 1824 to find how much 
race prejudice had increased. He remembered that 
black soldiers and white messed together during the 
American Revolution. 

Religious liberty for Protestants, civil rights for 
Jews and Protestants; suppression of the infamous 
lettres de cachet; trial by jury; a revision of French 
criminal law to allow the accused the privilege of 
counsel, of confronting witnesses, and of free com- 
munication with his family— benefits, by the way, 

297 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

which were all enjoyed by the accused in the state 
trials which took place while Lafayette was in power; 
abolition of the death penalty and freedom of the 
press were some of the measures most ardently 
championed by this beHever in liberty and law. 

He remained a man of visions to the end. After 
his death one of the men who wrote in praise of him 
said that if he had lived during the Middle Ages he 
would have been the founder of a great religious 
order, one which had a profound moral truth as its 
guiding principle. Another compared him to a 
Knight of the Round Table fighting for the lady 
of his adoration, whose name was Liberty. Pos- 
sibly no knight-errant, ancient or modem, can 
seem altogether sane, much less prudent, to the 
average unimaginative dweller in this workaday 
world. Yet what would the workaday world be 
without its knights-errant of the past; the good 
their knight-errantry has already accomplished; the 
courage it inspires for to-day; the promise it gives 
us for the future? 

If we dwell on the few times that Lafayette did not 
choose wisely, the times when the warm impulses of 
his heart would have carried farther had his head 
taken a more masterful part in directing his acts, 
we are tempted to echo the criticism made upon the 
unfortunate Louis XVI, **What a pity his talents 
did not equal his virtues!" But when we think of 
the generous, optimistic spirit of Lafayette, and how 
that spirit remained unchanged through good for- 
tune and ill from boyhood to old age; of his fearless 
devotion to right as he saw the right; of his charm, 

298 



SEVENTY-SIX YEARS YOUNG 

and of the great debt our country owes him, his 
mistakes fade away altogether and we see only a 
very gallant, inspiring figtire uniting the Old World 
with the New. 

There can be no better - eulogy for this brave 
gentleman, beloved of Washington, than the few 
words he wrote in all simplicity after he had been 
called upon to make his great decision between Louis 
Philippe and himself: 

*'I did as my conscience dictated. If I was mis- 
taken, the mistake was made in good faith." 



INDEX 



. Bonaparte, Napoleon, io8, 246 » 
251, 252, 255, 256, 258, 259, 

Adams, Charles Francis, 271, 272. 265, 280-282, 293, 294, 296. 

Adams, John, 87, 270, 271. Bourbon, Due de, 222. 

Adams, John Quincy, 260, 270, Braddock, Gen. Edward, 70. 

271-274, 283. Broglie, Comte de, 32, 35, 41, 48, 

Adams, Mrs. John Quincy, 274. 68. 

Aiguillon, Due d', 198. Brown, Gen. Jacob, 266. 

Andr^, Major John, 140-143, Buckle, Henry Thomas, 22. 

265. Buisson, Chevalier du, 62, 64, 65, 
Arbuthnot, Adm. Marriot, 133. 68. 

Arnold, Gen. Benedict, 84, 13^ Burgoyne, Gen. John, 74, 77, 83, 

143, 146, 147, 149, 151-154. H, 9it loi, 108. 

266. Byron, Adm. John, 114. 
Arnold, Mrs. Benedict, 140- 

143. Q 

Ayen, Marechal de Noailles, Due 

d', 15-17, 29, 44-46, 49, 50, 55, Cadwallader, Gen. John, 109. 

91, 124. Calonne, Charles Alexandre de, 
Ayen, Duchesse d', 15-18, 21, 29, 187, 188. 

45, 46, 80, 237, 239, 243, 244, Carmichael, William, 39, 42, 43, 

254. 55- 

^ Catherine II of Russia, 185. 

Charles, Prince of Lorraine, 222. 

Bailly, Jean Sylvain, 193, 196, Charles VII of France, 3. 

207, 211, 216, 279. Charles X of France (Comte 

Bedaulx, Captain de, 55. d'Artois), 188, 197, 225, 276, 

B^ranger, Pierre Jean de, 276, 283-285. 

277. Chasteler, Marquis de, 245, 246. 

Big Warrior, 265. Chateaubriand, Frangois, 287, 

Bellman, Dr. Justis Eric, 229- 292, 295. 

235. Clarence, Duke of, 2. 

Bonaparte, Joseph, 265. Clay, Henry, 260, 263, 264. 

Bonaparte, Lucien, 255, 281. Clinton, Gen. Sir Henry, 44, 91, 

301 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

104-107, 109, 114, 133-135, Feyon, Abb^, 8, 14, 81. 

I53» 156, 160-162. Pitzpatrick, Mr., 89, 90, 227. 

Cloquet, Dr. Jules Germain, 278. Fox, Charles James, 227. 

Cochran, Surgeon-General John, Francis I of France, 2. 

79, 120, 121. Franklin, Benjamin, 39, 40, 42, 

Conway Cabal, 84, 85, 9i-99» 43» 67, 70, 89, loi, 129, 171, 

103, III. 172, 176. 

Conway, Gen. Thomas, 85, 92, Frederick the Great, 12, 100, 173, 

95-97, 99, 103. 180, 181, 183, 229. 

Corday, Charlotte, 265. Frederick William II of Prussia, 

Cornwallis, Gen. Charles: 181, 224, 226, 228, 229, 239, 

Operations against Philadel- 245, 249. 

phia, 78, 79, 85, 86. Frestal, M. de, 237, 238, 
Capture of Charleston, 133. 

Virginia campaign, 149, 153- ^ 

165, 271. 

Surrender, 127, 165-168, 171, Gage, Gen. Thomas, 73. 

216. Gates, Gen. Horatio, 84, 85, 92, 

Guest of Frederick the Great, 95, 98, m. 

181. George III of England, 32, 44, 

Intercedes for Lafayette, 227. 47, 80, 81, 99, 127, 143, 160, 

Coudray, Philip C. J. B. T. de, 66. 259. 

Crawford, William Harris, 260. Germain, Lord George, 44. 

Gimat, Major de, 79, 163, 165. 
Gloucester, William Henry, Duke 
of, 32, 33. 

Danton, Georges Jacques, 206. Grasse, Adm. Francois J. P. 

Davis, Capt. John, 158. Comtede, 161-163, 168, 169. 

Deane, Silas, 36, 37, 43, 55, 66- Greene, Gen. Nathanael, 78, 85, 

69, 87, 89, 114. 86, 108, 109, 116, 117, 146, 149, 

Desmoulins, Camille Benoit, 197. I53» I55, 168, 169, 265. 

Donoil, Henri, 293. Guichen, Adm. Comte de, 138. 
Doria, Andrea, 2. 

H 

F 

Hamilton, Alexander, 155, 156, 

Estaing, Adm. Charles Hector, 165. 

Comte d', 113-119, 134, 172. Harrison, Benjamin, 75. 

Harrison, William Henry, 270, 

■^ H^nin, Princesse d', 225-227. 

F^nelon, Frangois de Salignac, Henri IV of France, 31, 212. 
10, II. Howe, Adm. Richard, 106, 117. 

302 



INDEX 



Howe, Gen. William, Viscount, 

47, 73-77, 79, 8o, 82, 83, 85, 

89, 91, 94, 104-106. 
Huger, Maj. Benjamin, 59, 60, 

62, 229. 
Huger, Francis Kinloch, 59, 229- 

235, 265. 

J 

Jackson, Andrew, 260, 271, 290. 
Jefferson, Thomas, 92, 147, 156, 

201, 202, 270, 271. 
Joan of Arc, 3. 
Jones, John Paul, 125, 126. 



Kalb, Johan, Baron de: 

Accompanies Lafayette to 
America, 35, 36, 41, 44, 48- 
51, 57, 58, 60, 62, 63. 
Treatment by Congress, 65, 

68-70. 
Interest in Lafayette's wound, 

80. 
With Lafayette at Albany, 96, 

99. 
Monument, 264. 
Knox, Gen. Henry, 137, 140. 
Kosciuszko, Gen. Tadensz, 84. 



Lafayette, Marie - Joseph - Paul- 
Yves - Roch - Gilbert - Du- 
motier, Marquis de: 

Birth, 3, 4. 

Boyhood, 5-12. 

Marriage, 14-18. 

Life at Court, 19, 27-31. 

With his regiment, 20, 32-35. 

Smallpox, 21. 

Resolves to go to America, 34. 



Efforts to leave France, 35-47. 
Departure and voyage, 48-56. 
Lands: goes to Philadelphia, 

57-63. 
Reception by Congress, 64-69. 
Enters American Army, 70- 

72, 74, 75. 
Battle of the Brandywine, 77- 

80. 
At Bethlehem: rejoins army, 

80-83. 
Intrigues againstr-84j-85r-9i=- 

98. 
Skirmish near Gloucester, 85- 

87. 
Conduct, in army, 88, 89, 94. 
Attends Indian council, 98, 99. 
Returns to Valley Forge, 99, 

102. 
At Barren Hill, 104-107. 
Votes to attack Clinton, 109. 
Battle of Monmouth Court 

House, 109-111. 
Liaison officer, 113-116, 118. 
Joint command with General 

Greene, 11 6-1 17. 
Challenges Earl of Carlisle, 

119. 
Granted leave of absence, 119. 
Illness and homeward voyage, 

120-123. 
Winter in France, 124-128. 
Rejoins Washington, 130. 
Again liaison officer, 134-138. 
West Point, and Andre, 139- 

143. 

French officers' attitude 

toward, 144, 145. 
First campaign in Virginia, 

146-148. 
Second campaign in Virginia, 

150-165. 
At Yorktown, 165-169. 



303 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 



Popularity in France, 16^172, 
175, 176, 196, 200, 212, 283. 
In Spain, 172-174. 
Plan to free slaves, 174. 
Improvements at Chavaniac, 

174, 175. 

Paris home, 175, 176, 178. 

Interest in Mesmer, 176, 177. 

Visit to America, 1784, 177, 178. 

Sends gifts to Washington, 179, 
196. 

Visits Frederick the Great, 
180-182. 

Champion of reforms, 182-183, 
185, 187-190, 297. 

Member Assembly of Notables, 
185-190. 

Vice-President National As- 
sembly, 195. 

Commands Paris National 
Guard, 196-215, 284, 285, 
298. 

Invents the Tricolor, 197. 

Neither Republican nor Royal- 
ist, 201, 202, 213. 

Blamed for attack on Ver- 
sailles, 203, 205. 

At f^te of Federation, 209-212. 

Slanders and attacks upon, 213. 

Arrests king and queen, 214. 

Defeated for mayor of Paris, 
216. 

Commands army of defense, 
216-220. 

Last effort to save Louis XVI, 
218, 219. 

Flight and arrest, 219-221. 

Imprisonment, 222-247. 

Attempted escape, 229-233. 

Exile, 248-253. 

Returns to Paris, 253. 

Life at La Grange, 254, 278, 
279, 289. 



Death of his wife, 257, 279, 280. 
Relations with Napoleon, 251, 

255, 256, 280-282. 
Member, Chamber of Depu- 
ties, 256, 259, 283, 284, 286, 

289. 
Revisits America, 259-275. 
Lays comer-stone at Bunker 

Hill, 267-269. 
Welcome in France, 276, 277. 
Relations with Louis XVIII, 

280-282. 
Relations with Charles X, 283- 

285. 
Relations with Louis Philippe, 

285-288. 
Illness and death, 289-290. 
Character, 10, 29, 30, 82, 86, 

87, 92, 119, 125, 126, 136, 

145. 159. 200, 254, 255, 282, 

283, 294-296, 298, 299. 
Correspondence with: 

Bollman, 230. 

Mile, de Chavaniac, 14. 

Congress, 66, 173. 

d'Estaing, 114, 115. 

Fitzpatrick, 248. 

French Minister, 139-143. 

Governor of Martinique, 82. 

Hamilton, 155, 156. 

Mme. d'H^nin, 225, 226. 

Huger, 248. 

Jefferson, 281. 

Louis XVI, 124. 

Maubourg, 257. 

Napoleon, 251, 252. 

Nelson, 155. 

Relatives, 137, 174. 

Vergennes, 145. 

Washington, 85, 86, 96, 97, 
116,117,127,135,146,150, 
152, I53» 160, 161, 170, 173, 
174,176,177,181,182.189. 



304 



INDEX 



His wife, 53-55, 59-63, 76 

80, 81, 88-90, 93,, 102, 

129, 133. I37» I43» I44» 

223, 237, 258. 

Opinion of Washington, 71, 

91. 
Opinion of the American Revo- 
lution, 108. 
Family of: 
Ancestors, 2-4, 33. 
Aimts, 4, 5, 7. 174, 238, 

256, 257. 
Children: 
Anastasie, 92, 125, 129 



Inherits La Grange, 254. 
Death, 257. 

Influence over her hus- 
band, 279, 280. 
Mentioned, 32, 53, 59-63, 
67, 80, 81, 88, 93, 102, 
103, 129, 133, 143, 144, 
169, 178, 215, 223, 258, 
290. 
Lally Tollendal, Trophime Ge- 
rard, Marquis de, 227, 228. 
Lameth, Alexandre, 223, 230. 
Lasteyrie, Louis du Saillant, 
Marquis de, 257. 
170. I75> 176, 178, 236, Laurens, Henry, 79, 80, 138. 
238-244, 247, 248. Laurens, Col. John, 138, 145, 161, 

George Washington, 129, 165. 

130, 170, 173, 175, 236, Ledyard, John, 172. 
238, 239, 249-251, 256, Lee, Arthur, 39, 42, 43. 
259, 263, 265, 271, 274, Lee, Gen. Charles, 85, 108-111. 
280, 284, 290, 292. Lee, Gen. "Lighthorse Harry," 

Henriette, 29, 102. 167. 

Virginia, 175, 176, 178, Leszczynska, Marie, 9. 

236, 238-244, 247, 257, Levasseur, Col. A., 260, 271-273, 

275- 
Lincoln, Gen. Benjamin, 166. 
Louis XIV of France, 13, 183. 
Louis XV of France, 5, 6, 9, 12, 

13, 19-22, 25, 30, 183. 
Louis XVI of France: 

Lacks confidence, 21, 30, 194. 
Orders Lafayette's arrest, 47. 
Receives American commis- 
sioners, lOI. 
Letter to, from Congress, 119. 
Interviews with Lafayette, 124, 

128, 177, 214. 
Makes Lafayette marshal of 

France, 171. 
Talk with Richelieu, 183. 
Convenes Assembly of Nota- 
bles, 185. 
Opens States General, 19L 



267. 
Cousin, 277. 
Father, 3, 4, 33, 35. 
Grandchildren, 258, 293. 
Mother, 3-9, 12. 
Uncles, 9, 14, 35. 
Wife: 

Marie Adrienne Fran^oise 

de Noailles. 
Marriage, 15-18. 
Before the French Revolu- 
tion, 19, 29, 45, 46, 102, 
129, 169, 170, 174-176, 
178. 
Experiences during the 

Terror, 237, 238. 
At Olmutz, 236, 240-245. 
Release and exile, 247, 248. 
Visits Napoleon, 253, 254. 

305 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 

Contests with National Assem- Maurepas, Jean F. P., Comte de, 

bly, 193-196. 30, 3i» 50, 82, 125. 

Cheered and attacked, 197, Mauroy, Vicomte de, 51, 52, 

203-205. 65. 

Attempt to escape, 213, 214. Mesmer, Friedrich Anton, 176, 

Signs Constitution, 215. 177. 

Last weeks of reign, 217-219. Mirabeau, Gabriel Honors Ri- 

Death of, 236. quetti, Comte du, 194, 195, 

Mentioned, 32, 34, 36, 39, 52, 202, 213, 219, 254. 

188, 189, 198, 201-206, 216, Monroe, James, 238, 259, 270, 

224, 228, 280-281. 271. 

Louis XVIII of France, 30, 276, Morgan, Gen. Daniel, 84. 

280-282. Morris, Gouverneur, 64, 201, 213, 

Louis Philippe (Philippe figalit^), 218, 227, 237, 248. 

285-288, 291. Morrolet, Abb6, 178. 
Lovell, James, 64-67. 

Luckner, General, 217. j^ 

Necker, Jacques, 186, 187, 227. 

^ Noailles, Louis de, 15-17, 29, 237, 

Madison, James, 270. 239, 257. 

Magaw, William, 267. Noailles, Madame de, 237, 239, 

Marat, Achille, 265. 257. 

Marat, Jean Paul, 206, 207, 213. Noailles, Marquis de, ambas- 

Marie Antoinette: sador to England, 43, 47. 

Character, 21, 192, 202, 278. Noailles, Vicomte de, 17, 29, 39, 

Court of, 29, 30, loi, 169, 170, 40, 45, 136, 145, 195, 198. 

191. 

Admires Franklin, 42. q 
Opposes visit of Louis to Paris, 

197. O'Hara, Gen. James, 166. 

Attacked at Versailles, 203- Orleans, Louis Philippe Joseph, 

205. Due d', 203, 205. 
At f^te of Federation, 211. 

Name coupled with Lafayette's, p 

213. 

Refuses Lafayette's help, 219. P6tIon, J^r6me, 216. 

Arrest of, 219. Phillips, Gen. William, 149-154. 

Marmontel, Jean Frangois, 178. Pierce, Franklin, 271. 

Martin, Dubois, 41, 265. Polignac, Prince de, 284. 

Maubourg, Charles Latour, 248. Pontonnier, F61ix, 235, 244, 247, 

Maubourg, Latour, 223, 224, 230, 254. 

235,242,245,247,251,252,257. Pulaski, Count Casimir, 81, 265. 

306 



INDEX 

Pusy, Bureaux de, 223, 230, 235, H. F., Baron von, 100, loi, 146, 

242-244, 247, 251, 252. 152, 154, 157. 

Stormont, Lord, 36. 

-. Sullivan, Gen. John, 79, 115, 118, 

R 119. 

Rawdon, Francis, Marquis of Sumner, Charles, 279. 

Hastings, 44, 149. 

Raynal, Abb^, 81. ^ 
Richelieu, Cardinal, 3. 

Richelieu, Marechal Louis F. A. Tarleton, Gen. Sir Banastre, 156, 

du Plessis, Due de, 170, 183, 227. 

184. Taylor, Zachary, 264, 271. 

Riviere, Comte de la, 9, 14. Temay, Admiral, 133, 134, 141. 

Robespierre, Maximilian, M. I., Tess^, Madame de, 241, 248, 

218, 238. 249. 

Rochambeau, Col. Donatien M. Thiebault, General, 211. 

J. de v., Vicomte de, 137, 161. Tilghman, Col. Tench, 167, 168. 

Rochambeau, Jean Baptiste D. Tourgot, Austrian Prime Minis- 

de v., Comte de, 133-137; 141. ter, 245-247. 

161, 162, 166, 167, 216. 

Romeuf, Louis, 223, 247. -, 
Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 11. 

Vergennes, Charles Gravier, 

cj Comte de, 52, 127, 128, 145, 

^ 171. 

Saint-Germain, Claude Louis, Viomenil, Baron Charles J. H. 

Comte de, loi. du H., 165. 

Saint-Simon, Gen. Claude Henri, Voltaire, Frangois Marie Arouet, 

Comte de, 163. 22, 25. 

Schuyler, Gen. Philip, 84, 97, 98, -., 

108. ^ 

Scott, Gen. Winfield, 266. Washington, George : 

S^gur, Louis Philippe, Comte de. Friendship for Lafayette, 71, 

27,30,32,39,40,45,162,171, 75, 91, 97, 119-121, 146, 

288. 176-179. 

Segur, Philippe Henri, Marquis His military skill, 72-74. 

de, 171, 246. Battle of the Brandy wine, 78, 

Sheridan, Richard Brinsley But- 79. 

ler, 227. Sends his surgeon to Lafayette, 

Simcoe, Col. John G., 153. 79. 

Stael, Madame de, 227, 294, 297. Battle of Germantown, 82. 

Sterling, Lord, 79. Conway Cabal, 84, 85, 91, 92, 

Steuben, Gen. Friedrich W. A. 94-96. 

307 



THE BOYS' LIFE OF LAFAYETTE 



Recommends Lafayette to Con- 
gress, S7. 

Orders cheers for King of 
France, 102. 

At Monmouth, 109-112. 

Intercourse with French allies, 
114, 118, 135-138, 144. 

Meeting with Lafayette, 130. 

Threatens New York, 134. 

Visits West Point, 139-143. 

Letters to Lafayette, 146, 161, 

251- 

Orders Lafayette back to Vir 
ginia, 149, 150. 

Takes his own army to Vir- 
ginia, 161-164. 

Siege and surrender of York- 
town, 164-167. 

Visits French admiral, 168. 



Kindness to George Lafayette, 

249-250. 
Mentioned: 33, 35, 42, 86, 100, 
105, 114, 125, 127, 135, 137, 
149, 160, 163-167, 170. 176- 
178, 181, 182, 200, 201, 227, 
249-251, 264, 274, 279, 293. 
Washington, Martha, 177, 178. 
Washington, Mary, 148. 
Wayne, Gen. Anthony, 109, 131, 

150, 154-156, 159. 162-164. 
Webster, Daniel, 268. 
Wnberforce, William, 227. 
Woodford, Gen. WilHam, 83. 



York, Frederick Augustus, Duke 
of 181. 



THE END 



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